Rich Girl Poor Girl

Chapter 5

Lex woke before her alarm, charged and elated.  It took a lot for her to feel anything beyond annoyance most days, and she knew the reason for the unusual emotions buzzing inside her: pay day!

Her company paid Lex monthly; when there were only twelve pays a year hitting her account, the fifteenth of every month became a massive deal.  She reached for her phone, resting on the empty pillow beside her and began to mentally run through a list of things to buy: the cashmere full-length coat she’d seen at that boutique in the city, gym pants from Lorna Jane, a new tub of MAC foundation. 

Swiping and tapping, Lex shifted a few grand onto each of her credit cards, and smiled at the amount left over.  It was going to be a good month; she’d been paid extra from all the over-time she’d pulled in the last few weeks, so she had a decent sum to play with.

Lex knew she was paid exorbitantly for most young women of her age bracket, and there was a naggy voice in the back of her head that constantly admonished, Why don’t we have more in savings?  She never bothered to answer the question; she was great with other people’s bucks, but not her own.  Financial disasters seemed to stalk her, from unexpected plumbing issues with her house, to the massive bulk fine she’d been issued to cover her multitude of speeding and parking infringements.

Plus, I love to shop.  Lex didn’t have kids, or a hobby, or a charity, or any of the normal things people wasted their cash on.  What she did have was a desire to always appear elite and unattainable, by clothing herself in nothing but the best threads and coordinated accessories.  Her car, her home and her image were the three things that mattered most to Lex, and she had a five year plan to upgrade all of them.

She leapt from bed and into the shower of her ensuite, plotting out the day like an army commander as she sloughed off a layer of skin using $90 body scrub.  Get into the office ridiculously early, catch up from yesterday, start working on the new report, figure out a way to sabotage MacNamara, go suck up to Wilson…  So much to get through; she made do with a speedy makeup job, but took the extra minute to perfect the wings of her eyeliner.  A girl has her pride, after all.

Lex always organised her outfits for the week on a Sunday, to avoid any last minute dry-cleaning dramas.  Shucking into a skin-tight jersey dress in colour blocks of red and black, she matched with a pair of black studded Mollini’s, and slicked back her hair with a glob of Moroccan oil.  The two day old blow-dry would have to last until a booking with her stylist first thing the next morning, but she still looked fierce.

Just as she reached for her scarlet Fossil saddlebag and prepared to race out the bedroom door, she heard a thump downstairs.  “What the fu…” she murmured, her fingers clutching tightly against the doorknob.  Lex pulled her phone out and pre-dialled 000, then pulled the door wide and listened carefully.

But rather than the sounds of a burglary in progress, all that greeted her was the sound of happy singing.

“And if you said, ‘This life ain't good enough’

I would give my world to lift you up

I could change my life to better suit your mood

Because you're so smooth.”

Otis.  She sagged against the doorframe.  In the heady rush of dividing up her pay-packet and her usual speed-of-light morning routine, she’d forgotten about inviting a complete stranger to sleep over.  It ran contrary to her every instinct that she hadn’t locked her bedroom door, or taken inventory of her belongings, or even called someone and let them know that there was a random in the next room.