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Taylor shrugged nonchalantly. She would no longer have to deal with the rest of the dancers anymore after tonight. As longas they didn't get in the way of her money tonight, everything would be good. "I'm glad you're here and all, but aren't you supposed to be with PJ?" Taylor raised a brow at her best friend.

A guilty look etched Jazzy's face before she groaned loudly. "I am," she said as her shoulders sulked.

"So why the hell are you here?" Taylor screwed up her face. "I hope you didn't bail on him so you could sit up here and watch me shake my ass."

Jazzy smacked her lips as she shook her head. "I told him I wouldn't be able to make it after last night," she informed Taylor. "You think he'll hate me?" She furrowed her brows in question.

Taylor sighed. Priest was the only person who could really get Jazzy down. He was her soft spot, and only a few people knew that. "He won't hate you," Taylor assured her. "He might be mad as hell, but he won't hate you."

Jazzy groaned as she threw her head back in despair. "I hate when he's mad at me. Makes me feel like shit."

"Well, you fucking should," she shamed Jazzlyn. "You do this all the time. You beg him for something, and when he finally gives it to you, you dub him," she pointed out.

Jazzy smacked her lips, ready to disagree with Taylor. "I didn't beg him?—"

"Yes, you did!" Taylor persisted. "You always got pissed when he chose Sylvia over you to go. Then, he finally got Sylvia to stop going so you could go, and now you flaked on him."

"I didn't really flake on him," Jazzy refuted once more.

"Yes, you did. If you didn't, you wouldn't be here," Taylor told her.

Jazzy knew not going to support Priest looked bad, but she had her reasons. She wanted things in her life to remain as they were. People finding out who her brother was would just complicate everything.

Right now, people perceived her as the girl full of mystery. There wasn't much to know since she didn't tell people much. If everyone found out she was the sister of Priest Justice, she would just become a steppingstone to get close to him. Once Priest got involved, everyone began to have motives, and Jazzy couldn't have that right now, especially with him moving to Italy. He wouldn't be around to weed out the real from the fake, so she just decided not to put herself through that.

"He's fine," Jazzy asserted, trying her best to convince herself that Priest probably didn't even notice that she wasn't there for him. "Brit's there."

Taylor decided not to harp on the matter anymore. Jazzy seemed to have convinced herself enough. The ladies sat and talked about different things as Jazzy went back and forth checking the live feed. Still with no update, she locked her device with a heavy huff of air.Due to the club being nearly empty since it was so early, Jazzy was able to hear the sound of heels clicking against the floors. They screwed up their faces at each other in confusion since they were under the impression that no other ladies aside from them were in the club.

Looking over their shoulders, they spotted a woman sauntering her way across the club toward the front exit to leave. Jazzy noticed it was the same woman who had come out of Cameron's office the last time she was there. Her eyes fawned over the woman's nicely tailored mauve pantsuit which she paired with a set of nude heels. Unlike last time, the woman's hair wasn't straightened in a short bob. She had switched hairstyles and now styled herself with a sleek low ponytail that swayed with every step she took. The same Gucci purse dangled from her hands, filled to capacity with what Jazzy assumed was cash like she had witnessed the last time.

They were sure that the woman didn't even notice their presence since she neglected to glance their way. Still witha questioning look contorting her face, Jazzy returned her attention to Taylor. "Who is that?" Jazzy asked Taylor, who was no longer confused by the woman's presence.

"Oh," Taylor waved off, hoping to dismiss Jazzy's worries. "That’s the accountant."

"This nigga needs an accountant?" Jazzy screwed up her face.

Taylor shrugged her shoulders. "Apparently," she muttered before leaning up in her seat to get closer to Jazzy. "But I think they're fucking," she whispered to her lowly.

Jazzy scoffed while shaking her head. "I wouldn't be surprised," she agreed. "That seems like Ron's M.O." Jazzy wasn't worried about Cameron fucking anyone else. Quite frankly, she would've been shocked to find out if he solely depended on her to keep his dick wet. Her and Cameron fucking would never be a frequent thing. She got her fix here and there, but she wasn't planning to fuck him every other day. He was a single man and had the right to do as he pleased. As long as he wasn't passing anything to her, then they were okay.

Taylor tilted her head to the side, not completely sold on what Jazzy was saying. "Actually, it's really not," she told Jazzlyn. "I've worked for him for years, and he's never tried to fuck me or any of the rest of the girls."

Jazzy was shocked to hear that Cameron never tried anything with the dancers. The way he portrayed himself to her, he seemed to have fucked each one of them. “Wait a minute," Taylor pointed at Jazzy with her eyes widened in disbelief. "You're fucking him, aren't you?!" Taylor exclaimed loudly.

Jazzy instinctively sent her hand upside Taylor's head. "Lower your fucking voice, bitch!" she ordered Taylor.

"So, you are fucking him?" Taylor gritted lowly, this time keeping their conversation between them and not whoever else was potentially in the club.

Jazzy smacked her lips while shaking her head. "Listen, it's nothing serious. I don't want him," she clarified. "I just fuck him from time to time. Don't obsess over something that's not there," she warned Taylor, who usually loved to meddle in her love life.

On the verge of responding to Jazzy, Taylor was interrupted by none other than Cameron himself. "Yo, you ready for tonight, Kitty?" he asked Taylor, referring to her by her stage name.

Taylor nodded her head as she eyed Cameron. She should have known. Cameron was Jazzy's type: about his paper, stayed out the mix, and fly as hell. His efforts couldn't have just been ignored by Jazzy like she claimed they were. "Yeah, I'm ready, Ron," she confirmed. "But that's beside the point. My girl Jaz needs a hook up with your accountant. You think you can spare the information?" Taylor flipped her hair over her shoulder, batting her long lashes at Cameron.

Jazzy's jaws clenched mildly. She had just warned Taylor not to obsess over her situation with Cameron, and here she was pulling some sly shit. Jazzy didn't need a fucking accountant, but of course Taylor was going to make it seem as if she did just to figure out the truth about what was going on between Cameron and the woman. Taylor felt like if Jazzy was fucking Cameron, she deserved to know if he was fucking anyone else. She didn't want Jazzy in a situation like her and J'Ru.

Cameron’s captivating brown orbs shifted from Taylor to Jazzy. A light smirk played on his lips before he nodded his head. "No doubt," he agreed. "I have her card in my office. C'mon."