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with that hooker. He didn’t look like the type that was married. That’s for sure. My mouth felt dry and my pulse picked up a notch. Oh no, I was working my way down the list of the seven deadly sins, or was it the Ten Commandments? I forgot.
     
    What was I to tell Grammy? I could tell her I got a raise and set up a payment plan with the hospital for her treatments? Nah, telling her that I won the lottery was better. A simple raise would not be enough money to pay for those treatments. They were expensive.
     
    The thought of lying to her made my stomach twist, but I couldn’t figure any other way. The important thing was that she would have the chance to get better. That would more than justify the means… and my path to hell, paved with my good intentions.
     
    As the cab pulled up in front of my apartment, I coped with my misgivings about the money the way I dealt with all of my problems in the past, I shoved them deep down into the back of my brain where my guilty conscience resided and ignored them. I was excited about the possibility that I would finally be able to help the woman who raised me and repay some of her kindness and love. I didn’t want that euphoria to be overshadowed by guilt right now.
     
    As I entered my apartment complex, it was quiet. Time to count the money and divide it into neat piles before going to the bank.
     
    To my surprise, I heard noise coming from the kitchen as I entered the apartment. All the night’s many events had made me completely forget that Joey was staying over. She was sitting at the small wooden kitchen table, drinking coffee while texting on her phone.
     
    “You’re up early,” I said as I plumbed down on a chair.
     
    “Yeah, I have to help my mom pick out her wedding dress.”
     
    “Wedding dress? What number is this one?”
     
    “I know. Can you believe it? This makes number four.”
     
    Joey’s mom was only forty-four years old. She must be going for some kind of record.
     
    “How was work?” she asked, her gazed still plastered on her phone. From her raspy voice and her swollen face, I surmised that she was hung over. Clearly it had been a ‘wet’ night. I switched my backpack to my left shoulder as I peeled off my jacket and hung it on a peg inside the coat closet. I didn’t want to let loose of the backpack for one minute.
     
    “It was okay, except for this guy dying from a heart attack while having sex with a hooker.”
     
    I heard an audible gasp as she released her phone from her gaze. “That’s not funny, Dani. My uncle died of a heart attack.”
     
    “Sorry.” I adjusted the backpack on one shoulder and started down the hallway toward my bedroom. I paused before I got to the door of my bedroom and turned back so Joey could hear me from her spot in the kitchen. “I swear. It’s true. Some old dude died from a heart attack tonight while banging the shit out of a hooker in room 1215.” I walked back down the narrow hallway to the kitchen and stuck my head around the corner and added, “While snorting cocaine…”
     
    Joey rolled her eyes. “And why do you think it was a hooker?”
     
    I took a few more steps into the kitchen. I guess our conversation wasn’t over. I hadn’t counted on her being awake this early and in the mood for a chat. I just wanted to get into my bedroom and deal with my secret stash.
     
    “For one, she was thirty years younger than him, and she was in a hurry to get out of there. What else would she be?” I shrugged. “Plus, I’ve seen her other times at the Greymore, other nights ... lots of nights.”
     
    Joey frowned and glanced down. Her long dark pony tail fell to one side, spilling down her left shoulder. Joey always looked beautiful, even first thing in the morning with her hair pulled back. She just seemed to always have that look, the kind of look all the guy’s wanted. “Damn, that must be a tough life. Forced to make a living, screwing old guys, just to put food on the table and then