A/N: I try to update at least once a month. That's all the commitment you'll get from me for this story LOL Also I always love hearing opinions: good? bad? indiferential? Let me know...

"Are you certain this is the best idea really ?" Cayden asked for what could have been the millionth time in a week, when in fact it was probably the millionth time in just the past three days. Ever since I actually took that post-it with Carlos Manoso's number on it and dialled the digits that had been scribbled on it, my assistant seemed skittish. But than again, I had never voluntarily on my own accord met with someone who was trying to arrest me. Usually they had always sooner or later found me and cornered me into odd questioning that never lead to anywhere. Well, the few that had managed to get actually to me. There weren't many.

"Will you relax already?" I asked and ordered simultaneously.

I saw my assistant swallow and not say anything for a few heartbeats. He looked like he was trying to relax and let it go, but after a few more moments he lost the battle with himself however.

"Do you really think this is your best idea? To meet him? The DEA hired him to bring them your head and you just…want to walk into a room. It couldn't be easier if you'd chop of your head yourself and gave it to him on a silver platter."

There were times when my assistant had a very vivid imagination. Now for example.

Instead of replying I just rolled my eyes at his antics.

"First of all, I believe we evolved from the centuries where people were paid to bring literally the heads of the most wanted people. So, I have a hard time believing I'd meet with a guy who's going to behead me. I also believe that is illegal – no matter the crime you committed and are wanted for," I said dryly. "Second, I've meet plenty of men like Carlos Manoso over the years. Men who think they know it all and are so clever and ahead of everyone. Pretentious and self-possessed, in love with their own image and the person they think they are. Saviours of the world and one step below a self-announced superhero. I can tell you two things about this man already, without having met him even. He underestimates me, assuming he's the smartest guy in the room and that his arrogance will be his weakness that will cost him this battle and ultimately the war."

"What battle?"

"The battle for superiority. He probably thinks he has it all figured out, when in fact he knows nothing. There have been plenty of men before him, thinking they could come after me and have any of them succeeded? No! And why? Because they know nothing and they have nothing to prove any of their wild accusations. Is it more or less an open secret what I do and what kind of business I run? Yes. But can anyone prove anything? No. All of the smart men before him thought they were the one bringing me down, proving what no one else had been able to and failing miserably. Carlos Manoso will just be another one in that long line-up of failed operatives."

"But aren't you worried, boss? He seems to be rather thorough."

"Let him be. Let him go and run around, leaving no leaf unturned and sniffing out possible tracks. In the end, he will be as fruitless in his hunt like anyone before him. I run a legit business of restaurants that offer haute cuisine to those who can afford it. Anyone claiming anything else shall prove me wrong."

"But don't you think you bait the beast a little too much by…meeting?"

"I need to see who I am up against exactly. And he needs to see and understand that I'm not some damsel in distress who bends over backwards with the slightest turbulences occurring." And with that our debate came to an end. I wasn't stupid, I knew what Cayden was thinking. He was thinking of how foolish and reckless I was by meeting with the man who was sent to hunt me down. But what he didn't see was that Carlos Manoso had no way of finding the slightest hint to what I was making most of my money with. My restaurant business was legit – and though mainly used to get goods easily in and out – and a big fixture in the social circles. The books were perfect and accurate and Mr. Manoso was certainly welcome to sieve through them for as long as he wanted. He wouldn't find anything. Though – he of course would need a warrant for actually looking at them. And good luck getting one, especially since more than half the judges of this city were in my pocket.

.

xxxx

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I had set up the meeting in one of my restaurants, seeing that this was as neutral a ground as I could tolerate. And also, an environment I could control to some sorts.

I of course knew what Carlos Manoso was looking for and as mentioned before he was strikingly hot. Not just beautiful or handsome, but sizzling hot, if not even scorching. But walking towards the table he occupied and had been directed to by one of my staff, I had to realize his picture did him no justice. In reality he was just so much more attractive and appealing. With different circumstances, I could see us having potential second meetings far away from privy eyes, but… well, we were on different sides of the legal spectrum and he was considered the enemy, so in other words, he was off limits.

Dressed in black from head to toe he sat at the table with a stoic expression, leaving no doubt he was aware of every little detail in the room and what was going on around him. I was very little surprised when he noticed me walking towards him almost before I was anywhere close to the table. I however was very surprised when he got up at my approach. Manners were always a good thing and so very uncommon these days. Judging by a blink-and-you-miss-it shift in his expression I was not what he seemed to expect. Which made me wonder who or what he had been expecting. From the information I had read on him, I knew he was thorough, so there was no way he hadn't checked up on me.

He remained standing until I had sat down and I was surprised once more. This could of course just be a power-display I wasn't aware of though which wasn't very uncommon, but I figured there were easier ways to demonstrate power other than letting the woman in the room sit down first.

"You are a hard woman to get a hold of," he started off right from the bat. Good, looked like we wouldn't be wasting time with pointless small talk.

"I am a business woman and have quite a packed schedule. But you managed to track my assistant down several times, so I'd call that a success on your end."

"Yes, I did. Just to get a call back from you personally. Not sure what I did to warrant for such an honour," he replied, making it obvious that I really had surprised him with my call and suggestion for a meeting.

"Why did you agree to a meeting?" he asked curious. "You must be aware of who I work for."

"I have nothing to hide, Mr. Manoso," he said, shrugging. It was a lie and we both knew it, but it would be hard for him to prove me wrong. As I said, airtight legit business and the likes. Oh, and half the force in my pocket. The half that wasn't I tend to avoid like the plague and if I couldn't avoid them, I called in favours with people above them and in my pocket again. It was an endless circle that always guaranteed the same outcome – I came out the winner.

"Carlos please," he said, which surprised me, seeing as I did peg him for a rather private and closed-off person. "I've never been called Mr. Manoso in my life and I find that also overly formal and stiff."

"As far as I'm aware, Carlos, the reason for our meeting is not to share a cup of coffee together. So formal might be what is appropriate," I mentioned, seeing him raise his eyebrows by the slightest fraction of an inch. "So, what can I help you with?"

"I've been asked to consult on an issue the DEA is facing as of lately."

"The DEA? What's that? The Deaf Elderly Association? Is that why you are here? To collect donations? Let me get my cheque book," I offered and pretended for a moment to get up, before I felt his hand close around my wrist. Slowly he pulled me the few inches I had moved up back down and shock his head.

"Cute," he said and looked for a second like he might think about smiling. "I am very certain you know that the DEA has nothing to do with neither deaf elderlies, nor with donations and is at the moment all about you. Well, at least the part that concerns me anyway."

"And what exactly does concern or interest you, Mr. Manoso?" I asked in a deep voice. Any longer and I might start purring. If you can't beat them, distract them. Men were simple as that.

"Oh, I can tell you there is a whole lot of things that interest me in regards of you," he said, his voice equally low and deep. Looks like that didn't take a lot. "Like that shipment from Columbia last month?" he asked and for a second, I needed to scold my features. I felt like a bucket of ice-cold water had been dropped over my head. And…how the hell did he know about that?

"You mean the coffee? Sure. I'm not sure why you'd be interested in that, but… well."

"We both know that the crates might have been labelled with some of the finest Columbian roast available, but that wasn't all that was in there."

"I don't know what you are implying, Mr. Manoso," I said calmly. "The only thing Columbian here is the coffee, I guarantee you." And that wasn't even a lie. I made it a habit to never distribute product in one of my restaurants and also that no one else got any ideas of doing so.

"I'm sure it is," came his reply, and was accompanied by something that could potentially be called a smile – with a lot of imagination.

"Maybe I can interest you in a cup of the coffee then?" I asked, waving the waiter to us. It wasn't like that needed much time or effort, seeing we were the only people here and the restaurant wasn't going to open for another few hours.

He looked at me curious for a long moment before he nodded, citing his order to the waiter.

"And no need to bring milk or sugar. I drink it black."

"Plain, black coffee?" I asked surprised. Sure, while I hadn't figured him for a Starbucks guy who ordered any of their frilly, frothy heart diseases to-go masked as coffee I wasn't seeing him as that simple of a guy either.

"Anything else will kill you sooner or later. And I look after what my body has to put up with," he simply shrugged. From the rather short glance I got when I came in earlier I had no problem seeing that his body didn't need to put up with a lot of nonsense. Either that or he lived in a gym. But than again, didn't they all? I think from the last four or five agents that walked into my life, they all looked the same, talked the same and figured all they could rule the world and tell me what to do. In the end I'd always won. Something told me, it wouldn't be as easy with Carlos Manoso.

"So, you import coffee from Columbia, Tequila from Mexico, Supay from Bolivia and spices from India?"

"I do," I replied slowly, confused where this was going. Well, I might have a hunch in all fairness. "I'm surprised you know what Supay is."

Instead of a reply, I actually got a semi-smile at my remark.

"Though I'm not sure what the DEA's interest in my vendors is. Unless of course DEA is short for Distinguished Eatery Authenticity Agency, though that would probably make them DEAA."

"Your vendors and deliveries happen to come from some of the biggest drug-producing countries in the world," he simply stated and I hated when a hunch played out to be right. If I could, I would have rolled my eyes. I hated when they were showing signs of being smart and actually being able to add one and one. Some of the guys they sent after me sometimes surprised me in regards how on earth they managed to even graduate from high school, let alone college and work for the government. Not that making the jump from my vendors to drug-producing countries was that much of a stretch. But, for some….

"And what does that have to do with me? I surely do not encourage them to beat the misery in their own countries by engaging in activities the law is frowning upon. And I'm no politician or resident of these countries, so I don't know how I could possibly have any pull in that."

"You know what they say, behind every successful man is an even more successful woman," he remarked and for a moment I was confused what he was talking about and what his comment had to do with his earlier deduction. And then I realized he probably had heard about rumours suggesting my start in this business. Sleeping – or dating, occasionally I was even married to them, depending on the gossip source – with someone from the cartels in Latin America.

"I don't follow. The only man I see in this room is you, Mr. Manoso, and I can guarantee you, I'm not standing behind you. Or even in your corner," I replied, smiling.

"Your assumption would mean you see me as successful without even knowing me really," he said and this time I actually got a smile. And wow. Woman in the world probably were walking into walls when that appeared.

"As you seem to happen to read up on me, I am certainly aware of a few facts about you as well," I admitted and knew it wasn't really a mistake to let go of the 'dumb'-act for a moment. I wasn't sure whether I even managed to fool him for just a second anyway.

"And what did you find out? I hope I'm not a disappointment to whatever reviews you managed to get."

From the few moments we actually had sat here I knew he wasn't fishing for compliments, despite how his question might sound. So I leaned back in my chair, throwing an arm over the back of the chair and took a long look at the man opposite of me. While I certainly didn't crave attention from the DEA or any other law enforcement agency for that matter and was anything else then ecstatic about the added headache to my life, this time they had managed to sent someone in who at least could provide a bit of a challenge. He didn't seem arrogant, yet overly self-confident. But I figured that self-confidence was actually earned and well-placed.

"You are a man of many mysteries," I finally said after a very long pause. "And a man who is underestimated by most people, capable of a lot more than what most people would think. You remind me oddly enough about chess, underestimated by most and treasured by very few and yet very aspiring people."

"I wouldn't figure you for a person to play chess."

"A good bottle of wine along with a worthy opponent and I can be persuaded."

"And who is considered worthy?"

"Someone who knows how to play the game and enjoys the suspense and length it takes to reap the award in the end."

"I'm known for my endurance, stamina and patience. So, length isn't really an issue for me. In the end I always get what I came for or am hired to do."

"And what exactly did you come for? I'm certain the Domestic Emperor Association has a lot of issues." **

"To bring you down," he simply stated and for a second, I was shocked at how direct and blunt he was in his answer. At least he wasn't playing around.

I thought about my options for a moment, wondering what next step to take. In the end I figured, since he was blunt and direct, I could gift him with a similar directness.

"Mr. Manoso, oddly enough I like you. Well, more than the others in whose footsteps you follow. So, a friendly piece of advice, back off before you find yourself in a situation less favourable than having coffee with me."

"Or what?" he asked, looking curious at me.

"Or you might find your life becoming… increasingly tough. A company like yours is built on reputation, isn't it? The thing with reputation is that as hard as you work to gain it, it can easily be taken away from you. I have some very powerful friends, Mr. Manoso."

"As do I, Mrs. Plum. You should never underestimate your opponent."

"I don't. But I've dealt with enough of your kind to know what I'm up against. All you see is the girl that is cute and helpless and makes idle threats, she couldn't possibly ever follow through with. You don't know what I'm capable of doing, but keep sticking your nose into business which isn't yours and you'll find out sooner than you think."

"What are you so worked up about if all you have here is Columbian coffee?"

"I don't like people sticking their nose into something that isn't their business."

"Well, the DEA would disagree in regards of who's business it is."

"The Dead Eskimo Association surely has more important things to worry about. Like, dead Eskimos."

I drowned my by now cold espresso at once and got up, deciding all important had been said anyway. "Until we meet again." And then I left, without looking back, knowing full well, it would't take long for us to meet again.

Because there was no doubt that our paths would cross again – whether I liked it or not. And oddly enough, I was less annoyed about that prospect then before I had started this meeting of the minds.

*** I assume no one got what I was going for, so Emperor is a synonym for king, which is a figure in chess and therefore ties into the whole chess conversation