me & tomfoolery

Privacy | Jayson Tatum Short Story

Heard the gworls like Deuce daddy? 🥹

"Y'all really be out here fucking for a little extra?" Reagan rolled her eyes as she overheard a conversation in Aldo. In need of a last minute shoe for a business meeting tonight, she had no other choice but to hit up the local mall for options.

Reagan Mitchell, referred to as 'Rea' or Mitch which is her working name. This was a woman in the unconventional business of alcohol import and exporting. She would travel the world to find the best of the best and create the pitch for club owners to buy into her exclusive options.

"Sometimes. And keep your voice down! I don't want these broke bitches in my business." One girl spat.

Reagan could tell they both worked there and clearly one worked at a place that provided extracurriculares on the side. She didn't judge. But she hated a loud mouth.

"You need any help miss?" The loud one asked. Her name tag read 'Tamika'. Shaking her head, Reagan declined. "I found what I came for boo. Would you like to ring me up?"

Tamika took the box and carried it over to the register. Her coworker, Faith had been scrolling through her phone and popping her gum.

Get me the fuck out of Boston please she mentally screamed.

On one hand she ran into a few overzealous Celtics fans as there seemed to be a game tonight. The only upside was knowing that the clubs would be jumping after regardless of the score. She just hoped the team won to bring her business endeavors more revenue.

••••

Jayson Tatum, business man and club owner. He ran all of Boston, especially the nightlife scene: from restaurants, to speakeasy's to the number one strip club in the New England area, Clover.

At only 25, he was on a the fast track to being next up on the east coast. He wanted to be a billionaire before 30.

His business partner Al was late and that meant bullshit to follow. There was a game happening tonight and if all went right, the hometown team would have a few sections flowing and a lot of hundreds dropping from the sky.

"Aye Tate!" Grant, one of his best friends yelled as he entered the semi empty space.

"What's up G?"
"Wondering where all the strippas at!"

A few of the bartenders and hostesses stale faced Grant before returning to work.

"They show up between 7 and 9. You know it's only 6 right?" Grant checked his watched, then waved Jayson off. "Anyways, you heard from Al?"

"No and I'm looking for that nigga." Jayson was a prompt man. He had no reason to be late. Late meant you wanted to be last. Jayson didn't like to be last. His competitive nature is what got him the success he had.

"Shit, so is everyone in bean. But I heard Jaylen got a section for tonight so I'm in there."

Jaylen was another one of their good friends, he was the superstar on the Celtics and fit right in with their 'get money, fuck bitches' antics.

"Shit, he got an easy game tonight. It's The fucking Magic." He chuckled. Jayson had a few bets when it came to his wealthy circle of acquaintances. He was a winner in that way too and the Magic were not beating anyone, any time soon.

"Tate, we're running out of the top shelf that nobody can pronounce." Mel, one of his loyal bartenders complained.

"Don't you see we talking?" Grant fussed at her. They always went at it and it was because Grant liked her but she would not give him the time of day.

"Nigga I don't care, you weren't talking about shit anyways."

"I'll handle it, thanks Mel."

••••

The blue, purple and white LED lights bounced off the walls of the club as Reagan made her main character entrance into Clover. It was after midnight and every black person from Boston to Vermont was in the building.

Bickenhead by Cardi B blared though the speakers as some of the most beautiful women on the world twirled on the silver pole garnering the attention of the biggest ballers. Reagan slowly scoped the scene at who was where and who was drinking what. She made sure to take note of what was on display at the bar versus what the bartenders were pouring in the drinks.

Cheap.

The club was nice, decor seemed well thought out but their choice in liquor wasn't up to par with her standards and it made sense that Al reached out to her. Reagan also noticed Faith on the floor talking to the more common customers and it made her giggle at the fact that the girl had the same low standards in dark too.

"Easy fucking win." Jaylen gloated as the bottle girls carried the obnoxious sign to his section. Grant was up and dancing with a bottle of DeLeón in his  hand. Jayson sipped his glass of scotch slowly. He didn't like to drink when he was on the clock.

Jayson was always on the clock.

He casually watched the dancers from the ceiling as they tricked their way mid pole before dropping to the illuminated surface. Although Jayson had a prime selection of women to choose from, he never shit where he ate and that meant he would never deal with anyone that worked for him.

Many have tried, all have failed.

"We going up!" Jaylen's satin button up was open and his Versace sunglasses rested on his face as thx paparazzi flashes went off. He was drunk off his ass and Jayson knew he would have to fix the problem before it escalated.

Al made his way to the section. Once he entered, he made a few of Jaylen's friends move for him to sit down. That was just the kind of power he had. He was an older man and did his debt to the Boston community by laying the foundation for people like Jayson to pull up to the table.

"Tate."
"Horford."

They shook hands firmly before laughing. It was their thing. They were hardly formal unless absolutely needed but joked about formality often. They were good friends and as well as partners, it was good for them to be that way.

Jayson hadn't been taken back by someone's looks in quite some time. He say half naked women every night. But whoever was in front of him was a stunner. Brown skin, long toned legs and full lips.

Reagan felt the same way as she stared at the handsome man with a full beard from a distance. She knew he was trouble by the way he licked his lips.

"What you drinking on Al?" Grant yelled over the music, interrupting the moment.

"Whatever you got." Al was easy going and he was only going to have one drink before he headed up to his office.

Grant poured the drinks and the night went on. The club didn't close until 4 and currently it was a little after two. Jayson stood at his favorite spot on the balcony overlook the entire space. Reagan had spoken to a few people and now she was heading back to the section.

"You enjoying yourself?" Jayson asked as the familiar legs passed him. She turned on her heel checking his body language before standing closer to him. "Nice place, drinks are decent."

"Just decent?"
"Just decent." They were shoulder to shoulder before he turned to look at her.

"Why do I think you're looking for trouble Tate?" She asked turning to face him as well.

Jayson liked trouble, it was fun for him. He thought he could conquer everything and he had previously. What would be different now?

"Depends. You like trouble?"

"Tate, your hoes down there fighting each other" Mel ran over to him. "I'm coming Mel." She quickly retreated to try and find more security to assist with the issue.

"I like privacy Tate. Maybe next time." She placed her hand on his his hand before walking into the direction of the exit.

Jayson watched as she walked away and figured he would never see her again.