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Jazzy snapped her head in Taylor's direction, shooting her a set of daggers. "Taylor, you go," she suggested.

Taylor rose to her feet with a scoff. "Bitch, I don't need her. You do, and besides, I gotta keep practicing for tonight," she laughed tauntingly as she strode toward the stage, resuming the loud music for her set.

Jazzy coldly rolled her eyes as she rose from her seat. Grabbing her tote, she followed Cameron to his office. She shut the door behind them in hopes of keeping the sound of the music out. "So, you need an accountant?" Cameron smirked down at Jazzlyn who already had her hand out for the business card.

"Is that shocking?" She lifted an intimidating brow at him.

Cameron eyed her for a moment. That suave smirk remained on his face. Every moment with Jazzy was entertaining. She was a hardball. She liked giving him hell, but he was learning to enjoy the challenge. Seeing that he was far more consumed with gawking at her, Jazzy put her hand down. She blew out a light breath with a roll of her eyes before taking a seat in one of the chairs in his office.

She paid Cameron no mind as she turned her attention on the television. It was showing the same news station that had been on standby in front of the courtroom. It was evident that Cameron hadn't been paying as much attention to it as Jazzy was since he kept it on mute. She reached across his desk, grabbing the remote and turning the sound on.

The reporter now stood in the frame of the camera with her branded microphone in hand. She watched intently as the reporter announced that the trial had finally come to an end. Jazzy felt a jolt of excitement rush through her veins, but she concealed her jubilation with a poker face.

Priest was finally free.

She wanted so badly to race to the courthouse and give her brother the biggest hug, but she couldn't, not right now at least.Glancing from the television briefly, Jazzy noticed that Cameron had taken a seat next to her. He seemed uninterested by the news. "You actually watch this shit?" he scoffed as he leaned back in his seat.

Jazzy nodded as her orbs trailed back to the television. "Yeah, the news is entertaining. Today at least.”

Cameron sighed with disdain in the shake of his head. "Too many bad vibes for me."

Jazzy pointed to the television. "Bad vibes? This man just got out of serving life in prison. That's something to celebrate." She was preparing herself not to take anything Cameron was about to say personal, despite Priest being her older brother. Cameron was a careless guy. His opinions were nasty and scornful, so she didn't expect anything less from him.

"He's a fucking cornball," Cameron insulted Priest. Jazzy pursed her lips, refraining from going into ultimate defense mode on the behalf of her brother. "He's way too fucking commercial but claims that he's a street nigga."

"Are you hating because he moves smarter than you and the rest of these street niggas?" Jazzy slyly let out as she tilted her head to the side.

He screwed up his face, clearly offended. "Chill out, ma. I ain't hating on shit, but you starting to sound like a groupie."

She cut her eyes at Cameron. She couldn't really violate him how she would’ve violated anyone else because he was unaware of her relationship to Priest. She was sure that if he knew how close she and Priest were, he would have either kept his thoughts to himself or turned into the groupie he was claiming she was.

"Nigga, I'm not a bird. I’m nobody’s groupie," she checked him with a stern voice. "And I'm also not a hater. He's a lot of things but give him props. Even though he has a bad rep, he still made his way into rooms you can't even imagine sitting in. Call him commercial all you want, but he's calculated and smart. You, as a black man with a criminal record, try getting a second of the mayor's time and let me know how that goes for you."

No one would ever get the chance to try to belittle Priest without her coming to his defense. She was sure Cameron was convinced she was a fan of Priest, but she didn't care. What she said was facts, and it spoke volumes. Priest never tried to bea regular hood nigga. He saw past that and found his purpose. That was why so many people, especially black men, loved to hate him.

Cameron let out a light chuckle, amused by how passionate Jazzy was about the conversation. "My bad then," he retorted, jokingly raising his hands in surrender. "We'll just agree to disagree and leave it at that."

Jazzy scoffed. "It's a shame how conditioned you are to believe that in order to be a street nigga you have to be dumb. That's the main reason we get misrepresented now. Instead of giving props to a nigga who's actually doing something and not just getting high off his product and stacking paper, you sitting in a shit hole of an office calling him a cornball from a set of busted, cheap and uncomfortable-ass chairs, but I digress." She shrugged with a tight-lipped smile, concluding the conversation.

Cameron's jaw clenched as Jazzy's words spewed senselessly out of her mouth. He grabbed the remote, turning the television off. She smirked knowing that she had just hit a nerve within him. "So do you have that card for me or not?" she asked with some amusement.

Cameron readjusted his face, unclenching his jaw. He rose from one of his seats Jazzy claimed were busted, cheap and uncomfortable. He went into his desk, grabbing the business card before handing it over to her.

She thanked him for the card as she rose from her seat with her tote in hand. "We're still on for tomorrow, right? Hope I didn't ruffle any feathers," she cattily chuckled as she awaited a response from him.Cameron’s eyes seared into hers before he nodded his head, confirming their outing for tomorrow. She smiled her infectious smile before winking at him in a flirtatious manner. With that, she exited his office, shutting the door behind herself.

Jazzy returned to the main floor of the club, where Taylor was still hiking herself up on the pole. With a chuckle, she shook her head. Taylor was messy, but in a good way. At least that was what Jazzy believed. She liked getting to the bottom of things. She approached the stage holding the business card out in front of her, gaining Taylor's attention.

Quickly, she glided down the pole, landing in a split. A smirk formed on her face as she extended her hand for the card. Jazzy handed it to her, watching as Taylor read the name printed on it. "Avery Simmons, CPA," Taylor read. "Cute name." She returned the card to Jazzy.

"It is," Jazzy agreed. "But I don't need an accountant so—" She was about to tear the business card up before Taylor halted her.

"Bitch, I know that, buthedoesn't." She pointed in the direction of Cameron's office. "Find out if she's fucking him."

"I really couldn't care less, Tay," Jazzy said as she shrugged it off.

Taylor smacked her lips, unconvinced by Jazzy's nonchalant attitude. "Jazzy, find out," she ordered, causing Jazzlyn to roll her eyes. Not wanting to hear any more of the matter from Taylor, Jazzy dropped the card inside of her tote for later use. She wasn't about to run herself crazy for Cameron. He wasn't her man, and she didn't want him to be her man. Whether Avery and Cameron were fucking or not, she wasn't about to lose any sleep over it.

"You're going to thank me for this one day," Taylor said confidently with a smile.