"How so?"
"Lorna killed me. She was great. She really blew me away. I was like totally in awe. She knew what she wanted and she went after it, and if you didn't like where she was coming from, then it was too bad for you."
"What did she want?"
"A million bucks, for starters. She wanted to retire by the time she was thirty. She could have done it, too, if she'd lived long enough."
"How'd she propose to do it?"
"How do you think?"
"That's a lot of time on your back," I said.
"Not at the rates she charged. After she left the escort service? She was making two hundred thousand dollars a year. Two hundred thousand. I couldn't believe it. She was smart. She invested. She didn't blow money the way I would've if I'd been in her shoes. I got no head for finance. What's in my pocket I spend, and when it's gone, I start over. At least I used to be that way until she straightened me out."
"What was she going to do when she retired?"
"Travel. Goof off. Maybe marry some guy who'd take care of her for life. Thing is… and here's what she kept hammering at me about… you got money, you're independent. You can do anything you want. Some guy mistreats you, you get the fuck out. You can walk. Know what I'm saying?"
"That's my philosophy," I said.
"Yeah, mine, too, now. After she died, I opened a little savings account, and I salt it away. It's not much, but it's enough, and I'm going to let it sit. That's what Lorna always said. You put it in the bank and you let it collect interest. She put a lot of her money in blue-chip stocks, municipal bonds, shit like that, but she did it all herself. She wasn't into this business about financial managers and people like that, because, for one thing, she said it's the perfect excuse for some asshole to come along and rip you off. You know stockbrokers? She called 'em portfolio pimps." She laughed at the phrase, apparently amused at the idea of procurers on Wall Street. "How about you? You got savings?"
"As a matter of fact, I do."
"Where is it? What'd you do with it?"
"I put it in CDs," I said, feeling faintly sensitive on the subject. It seemed strange defending my financial strategy to some girl who worked the streets.
"That's good. Lorna did some of that, too. She liked tax-free munis, and she had some of her money in Ginnie Maes, whatever they are. Listen to us. This is what I like. Talkin' about all this long-term stuff. You have money, that's power, and no guy can come along and punch your lights out, right?"
"You mentioned her making two hundred thousand. She pay taxes on the money?"
"Of course! Never fuck with the feds, was her first rule of thumb. That's the first thing she taught me. Anything you make, you declare. Know how they got Al Capone and those guys? Undeclared income. You cheat the feds, you end up in the can, like big time, and that's no lie."
"What about-"
"Just a minute," she cut in. "Let me ask you something else. How much do you earn?"
I stared at her. "How much do I earn?"
"Yeah, like last year. What was your annual income? What'd you pay taxes on?"
"That's getting pretty personal, isn't it?"
"You don't have to act like that. This is strictly between us. You say and then I will. We'll trade tit for tat, as it were."
"Twenty-five thousand."
Now it was her turn to stare. "That's all? I earned twice that. No fooling. Fifty-two thousand five hundred and change."
"You got your nose broken, too," I pointed out.
"Yeah, well, you had your nose broken. I can tell by looking. I'm not criticizing. No offense," she said. "You're not a bad-looking chick, but for twenty-five thousand, you get punched in the chops same as me, am I right?"
"I wouldn't look at it quite like that."
"Don't bullshit yourself. I learned that from Lorna, too. Take my word for it. Your job is dangerous the same as mine, with only half the pay. You ought to switch, in my opinion. Not that I'm promoting my line of work. I'm just telling you what I think."
"I appreciate your concern. If I decide to change careers, I'll come to you for job counseling."
She smiled, amused at the sarcasm or what she assumed was sarcasm. "I'll tell you something else she taught me. Keep your big mouth shut. You do a guy, you don't talk about it afterward. Especially in the crowd she's running in. She slipped up once and swore she'd never do it again. Some of those guys… whoo! You're better off forgetting you ever knew 'em."