Chapter Nine: Snowcaps and Olive Branches

Plastic upon glass meticulously sculpted tiny white peaks into four neat ridges. A snarling sniffle broke the idle silence. Perez's hand snapped across the desk, her palm upturned. "Hand over your phone, and your piece. Untuck and unbutton dat gaudy shirt too."

Madelaine hopped from the desk's edge and straightened her collar. "My phone is clean, piece is loaded, and there is nothing under this finely tailored silk shirt. Or are you just curious which bra I am wearing today? You know I color code."

Knowing eyes frisked Madelaine's form. "You don't make de rules here, guerita; you don't want to follow dem, then we not talkin' business." With the long point of her heel Perez opened the bottom drawer of her desk. Its interior crisscrossed with copper wiring and an assortment of loose cellphones already inside.

Madelaine flicked her wrist; the top two buttons of her shirt sprang open. Thin slivers of lace, gold as ichor, strained against olive skin as her cellphone clanged into the collection below. "Business is about compromises. I came here with an olive branch, Rezzie, not a deathwish."

Tapping toes counted down. "You keep testing my patience and I'll tell you where you can stick dat branch."

Metal flew from leather. The cylinder yawned open, fat cartridges spilling free before the Judge settled back on the bench without further ceremony. Madelaine finished her drink, crunching a half-melted ice cube between her teeth, then brought the glass down hard enough to splash condensation across the desk. She bent at the knees in front of Perez's throne, bringing their eyes level.

"You okay? Never seen you like this," she whispered.

"Like what?" Perez tilted forward, pressing her nose against Madelaine's.

"On edge. Suspect it has nothin' to do with the snowcaps."

"Maybe you ain't notice but it has been un poco frío on de island dis year."

Madelaine pushed further in, her lips pursed against Perez's ear. "I keep up with the news. Maybe you, fucked up as it sounds, could use a helping hand."

"What's de split?"

"I can make it worth your while, but we are not there yet; need a little time to run it upstairs."

A low, rumbling laugh rolled from Perez's lips. "Oh, dat's right. You let a man boss you around. Last hombre to try dat with me, I fed him to his pet hippo. No deal until I get a number."

Both knees popped as Madelaine rose. She retreated to the wet bar, choking a bottle of rum by the neck, swigging straight from it. "Not everybody has access to wildlife to make their problems go away."

"Bring de bottle over. Don't like you standing behind me." Perez kicked her feet up, sliding her heels off as her toes unlatched a small humidor under the lamp. "That greaseball boss of your's is as big as anything you'd see at de Bronx Zoo. You really think he's gonna want to work with people like me? Heard enough talk amongst de pillows about how stubborn he is regarding outsiders."

Madelaine grumbled as she reclaimed the edge. Inside the humidor, nestled against tightly rolled tobacco, waited a stainless steel butterfly knife in a cushioned pouch; she clacked it through her fingers, releasing the blade with a flourish before slicing the tips off two Cubans. Perez’s cigar tasted the first flame, its roaring ember used to spark Madelaine's. "All Vinny boy needs to know is I got a connection. Nothing more. Keep him on a need-to-know basis. I can promise discretion. Long as the cash gets cleaned, who gives a shit where it came from?"

Smoke rings fluttered above the glass between them. "You really walked in here with a 'concept of a plan'? Too many unknown variables on both ends. Not worth it right now. Even for you. I stopped believing your promises a long time ago."

"Understandable. Give me my phone back and I will get out of your hair." Madelaine hooked her heel in the handle of the desk's drawer. A lazy kick to her knee stopped her progress.

"I didn't say you could leave."

"If you are not on board, there is no reason for me to be here. Nice seeing you again, Ana. I promise not to–"

"No, no, no. You don't get to pull dis stunt again; storming out when I call you on your bullshit. You owe me. In more ways than one."

Raven eyebrows arched. "I do believe you are the one holding my underwear hostage."

"Once you pay back your debt, you can have dem back."

"What do you want?"

"One thing at a time, chica. You're right, we're both wound a little tight, we ain't had fun in a while. We're going out; no class tomorrow, so I can stay up late. Show me a good time and I'll tell you what I really want; maybe den we can hammer out de details and turn dis concept into reality."

A heavy exhale expelled a wall of smoke. "Is it really fun if you are forced into having it?"

Like a coiled spring, Perez popped from her throne, sharp nails finding Madelaine's lapels as she pulled her close. "You show up dressed like a clown, I expect to laugh, and lucky for you, I know exactly what to do tonight."

Another swig of rum sloshed into the deepening pit in Madelaine's stomach. "Do I even dare ponder?"

The zipper on the back of Perez's dress glinted in the low light as she presented her back to Madelaine. "Unzip me, por favor. Need to get changed into something more appropriate for open mic night at de club." Hazel eyes flashed over her sturdy shoulder. "I hope 'Katniss' has been keeping her stand-up material fresh."

Posted Jul 6, 2026, 9:04 PM UTC