Rich Girl Poor Girl

Chapter 3

“What?”  Any mention of pay or cash and her hackles immediately rose.  Her income was high, but so were her expenses, and often she struggled to scrape through until the end of each month.

But I never let it show.  Lex had big plans to be wealthy one day soon, and she knew in order to get there, she had to project an appearance of wealth; the right postcode, the right clothing, the right hairstyle, the right car.  No one would ever be able to guess that there were angry overdue notices cluttering her mailbox, when she wore $2000 jackets and lunched at the most exclusive restaurants in Sydney.

Yet in less than 30 seconds inside her home, Otis had already called her out.  Lex reacted defensively.  “What are you talking about?  How- Why do you think I need to get paid?”

His ivy eyes widened in puzzlement.  “I just meant, your fridge is empty.  I was kidding.”

“Oh.”  Looking back to the open door, she took stock of her vacant shelves and expired dairy products.  “I don’t eat at home much.”

“Right.  That’s cool, I eat out a lot too, you know, Maccas, Hungry Jacks…”

It grew awkward in the kitchen, the silence stretching between them like sagging elastic.  Otis accepted the water glass and gulped it hastily, while Lex tried and failed to stop herself ogling his strong neck and the hypnotising way his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.

“Pretty quiet here,” he remarked, placing the empty glass on the bench top.

“Well, I live alone.”

“No housemates?  That must be awesome!  I was living with these two guys up until last week, and there was always some new hassle, and no one ever did dishes and the bathroom was about ten kinds of disgusting.  I swear, there was a wash cloth in the corner of the shower that was so mouldy, it had grown legs and was moving on its own at night.” 

His voice rose in excitement as he painted the picture of his bachelor life, and Lex realised the gap between them was wider than she’d thought.  Otis was young, focused on the now, broke and apparently happy that way.  She was future-driven, older than her years, balancing between horrendous debt and generous pay.  She wasn’t going to change who she was, and he had years left before he thought about getting a real job and growing up.

And yet…  I still want him.  Despite the logic, Lex felt the pull in her lower belly, her needy, tactile body calling to his.  Unwilling to let him go just yet, she said, “Well, my fridge is empty, but we can order some food, if you like?”

Lex saw him waver, and realised the source of his hesitation.  She might not have cared about people, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t perceptive.  “My shout, of course.  The least I can do for the man who single-handedly ran down my bag and returned it to my door.”

He smiled, and it felt like sunshine on her face as he said, “That would be awesome!  I know a great Indian place around the corner.”

Within fifteen minutes, Otis had made himself at home in her terrace house; he commandeered her laptop and placed an online order for delivery, then began hunting through the cupboards for plates and cutlery, chatting in his animated way about how clean her house was.

Slightly dazed, Lex sank into a bar stool beside the bench, and watched him, unsure of how this had unfolded.  Sure, she’d asked him to stay, but the only thing on her mind had been somehow dragging him upstairs and into her bed.  Playing house wasn’t in the picture.

And yet, there they were.  A few minutes later, the doorbell rang, and she made to stand.  Otis leapt up, gallant.  “Sit, my lady.  I’ll get it.”