Page 182 of The Love of Priest

She thanked Taylor for the drink before opening it up and taking a swig. "Yes, I do. If I don't make my own, who's gonna make it for me?”

Taylor smacked her lips while shooting Jazzy a stale face. "Do you not know who your brother is?"

She waved Taylor off. "You must not know who my brother is," she retorted. "The last thing that nigga needs is someone else leeching off him. If I'm capable of getting it on my own, that's what I'm gonna do."

Taylor let out a sigh. "Girl, you're better than me."

"Pro tip: they give you more when they know you can hustle for it and cop it yourself," Jazzy teased Taylor, causing them to share a laugh.

Taylor let out a sigh as she looked off in the distance as if she were deep in thought. "I knew I should've fucked your brother when I had the chance. I would've been your sister-in-law." She shook her head, shaming herself for missing out on Priest.

Jazzy laughed. "Yeah, bitch. You played him out for J'Ru. Now look at you." She jokingly eyed Taylor up and down in disgust.

Taylor let out a groan. "My bad for wanting the funny nigga." She smacked her lips with a deep roll of her eyes at the thought of J'Ru.

"And the funny nigga played all up in your face." Jazzy pointed at her, still in laughter. "Joked and dumped while PJ booed up with his shorty."

Priest had always wanted to get with Taylor. No one was sure of his intentions, but if Jazzy had to guess, she was sure he would've most likely fucked her and kept it pushing. When he was trying, Taylor always felt like she was out of Priest's league, so she continued to dub him. She completely ignored his efforts and went with J'Ru. He was the one with the car. He put more effort into his style, and he had just gotten a raise at his landscaping job, so J'Ru definitely seemed like the catch out the two. Years had passed, and Priest had made a drastic turn in his life. Taylor was regretting her choice of picking J'Ru over Priest, not because of Priest's status, but because Priest seemed more like the long term committed type, while J'Ru was comfortable with disappearing and then popping up whenever he missed her pussy.

"So, he's taking her serious?" Taylor raised a curious brow. "I'm just inquiring for a friend."

Jazzy laughed at how subtle Taylor thought she was being. "Yeah, he loves her," Jazzy informed her with a light smile. "Very easy-going girl and cool to talk to. I approve of her."

"If you're tryna say I don't have a chance anymore, just say that." Taylor smacked her lips with a roll of her eyes.

Jazzy once again busted into laughter. "Tay, I thought we'd already established that. You fucked up your chance by fucking J'Ru. You know how tight they are. PJ would never double back," she explained to Taylor while giving her an encouraging tap on her shoulder.

"The nigga just had to have morals," she groaned lightly.

"Taylor, shut up!" Jazzy shook her head in amusement.

After a few minutes, the locker room began to fill up with the ladies, and Jazzy began getting them fitted. Ever since she had been coming around and making custom pieces for the dancers, men had been drooling at their heels like lap dogs. The money they made each night reflected it, too.

Jazzy secured a lace bralette around Taylor, immediately causing her breasts to rise and look bigger. "You did it again," Taylor praised her as she looked herself over in the mirror. Jazzy had her looking damn good.

"Don't I always?” she arrogantly responded with a smirk.

The door of the locker room swung open. Jazzy, who kept herself alert despite Priest having security with her, looked up. The alert expression on her face diminished and was immediately replaced by a stale face.

"Aye," Kev, who Jazzy usually referred to as the assistant, called out to her. "He looking for you."

Jazzy cut her eyes at him. "Nigga, don't you see I'm working?" she snapped as she swapped Taylor out for another girl, handing her the custom piece.

Kev smacked his lips just as Jazzy did. "We all working, but he's looking for you," he repeated.

"Clearly not hard enough if he couldn't come find me," Jazzy muttered while waving Kev off. His homie was persistent with Jazzy, but she would never take a man who couldn't approach her himself seriously. She was an intimidating girl, but she didn't think she was that unapproachable.

"Girl, just give that man some attention. He's been pressing you since you got here." One of the dancers who went by the name Passion told Jazzy with a light laugh.

Jazzy rolled her eyes. "You in my business. Don't do that," she advised Passion, causing the locker room full of women to laugh.

Kev, who had little to no patience with Jazzy, scoffed rudely. "You coming or what?"

She really did enjoy giving Kev's homie Ron a hard time. The nigga just needed to grow a pair, approach her himself and stop sending his little do-boy. "Unlike you, I don't move when that nigga tell me to," Jazzy smirked tauntingly.

"I don't even know why he bother with your ass. You not even worth it." Kev shook his head after letting out the sly remark.

Jazzy screwed up her face in offense. "You mad ‘cause your little peon ass get sent on empty trips around this club for your homie. Don't get mad at me because that nigga won't give you a promotion. And I'm very much worth it. If I wasn't, your stupid ass wouldn't even be standing here letting me read you for filth. Weak ass." She dismissed him with a wave of her hand and narrowed eyes.

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