"You'd get 10 percent, tops, because I'm doing all the work."
Mary sometimes considered going a little more legitimate. It wouldn't be too hard. She was attractive and knew what she was doing - she could have worked her way easily enough up to some fancy escort agency. But... Mary didn't want to lock herself into anything like that, didn't want to officially be a prostitute.
No, if she was living in poverty and fucking to make ends meet, then it didn't seem as much like a conscious choice, a decision on who she actually was.
Mary didn't want some agency telling her what to do, nor did she want some pimp thinking he owned her. Mary made her own (terrible, stupendously bad) choices.
"And you'd get the clean the sheets," Mary added, swirling her drink as she watched him with a smirk.