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.

But who would she tell? Hi, mum. Just so you know, I’m trying to coerce a homeless singer into having sex with me by letting him crash in my spare room, so on the off-chance I get found butchered by the side of a median strip, I thought you should be across it…

It wasn’t really an option. Besides, she hadn’t felt like she needed it. Weirdly, the woman who didn’t even trust her GP to accurately relay the results of her last pap smear, trusted Otis. Lex couldn’t explain why she wasn’t concerned about his presence in her house – perhaps because he’d made himself at home so quickly, she’d forgotten he was even there.

As she clopped down the stairs, Lex adjusted her push-up bra, ensuring that her cans were swelling above the neckline of her dress. “Good morning, Otis.”

He looked up from the toaster, grinning. In the Sydney sunshine slanting in through the wooden blinds, he seemed to glow. He wore a stained grey tee over his jeans, but still appeared fresh somehow. “Hey, Lexie! I found bread in your freezer – I’m making you toast.”

“What bread?” She felt her nose wrinkle as she inspected the ancient plastic bag of sour dough. “Oh, God, don’t eat this. My hippy half-sister bought this the last time my mum forced me into letting her stay. It’s at least six months old.”

“I’ll eat it, I don’t mind.” The toaster popped and he grabbed the hot slices, passing them swiftly from hand to hand so they didn’t burn his fingers. “But what will you have?”

“I don’t eat breakfast.”

His mouth dropped open in disbelief. “What? How do you function?”

“Coffee. Speaking of which, I need to go, or I won’t have time for a cup before I get to the office.” She shifted her bag from one shoulder to the other, realising there was so much they hadn’t sorted. “Um, before I go, there’s a spare key in the top drawer there, in case you want to go out. Also, feel free to use the washing machine.”

He glanced down at his filthy clothes. “Are you trying to tell me something, Lexie?”

“Yes. Wash your clothes.” She pulled one of her freshly topped-up credit cards from her phone cover. “Also, you can use this to buy some proper food.”

“I can’t take your credit card!” He shied away from the small plastic rectangle as if it might scald him. “I don’t need charity; I can find my own food.”

Again, hot irritation rose inside her at his frustrating nobility. She didn’t have time to battle it out with him, so thinking quickly, she said, “It’s not just for you. You’ve seen my fridge – I don’t have time to shop. If you can buy some groceries for me, you’d be doing me a favour.”

“Oh. Well, alright.” Placated, he accepted the card. “What kind of meals do you like?”

Resisting the urge to say, I don’t care, she tried instead to be a little softer. “I don’t mind. Just pay-wave, and get whatever you want, okay?”

“No worries, Lexie. Hey, have a great day today, yeah?”

He walked around the bench-top and held up his hand for a fist-bump. Grinning, and unsure why, she knocked her knuckles against his. “Thanks, Otis. See you tonight.”

There was something so familiar and right about the way it felt to leave him singing in her kitchen as she headed for work, as if it happened every day. The cynic inside her hissed, throwing forth scenarios of coming home to all her furniture stolen, or her credit card abused horribly, but Lex couldn’t seem to drum up any real concern. Humming and oddly happy, she hailed a cab and started her day.

__________________________________

Her mood lasted about as long as her spare cash did. At nine am, Liesl, one of the other associates rapped on Lex’s office door. “Hey, Lex? Remember that the balance of the retreat is due today.”

“Shit.” I didn’t remembered at all – there was another four thousand dollars or so about to slip through her fingers. Clicking up the website for the world-renowned health spa with the exorbitant prices, she typed in her Visa card number, flinching a little on the inside as the funds transferred. “Done,” she told Liesl. “Hope this thing will be worth it…”

“It will be! It’s a better investment than diamonds, pet.” Liesl perched on the side of Lex’s desk, the curves of her toned legs showing through her leather pants. She was a few years older than Lex, a powerful, single business woman Lex had looked up to since she started at the firm. “Everyone is doing detoxes and health retreats now – they’re amazing for stress. Plus the networking opportunities are unbelievable! I've met two Packers and an ex-PM since I’ve started going.”

Lex gave a mouth shrug. “Fine. As usual, Liesl, you know best.”

“You know I do. BTW…” She actually spelled out the letters, as if she was a sixteen year old girl rather than a highly educated woman. “Those cabins are all fitted with a king-sized bed, and a certain Mr MacNamara will be just a few doors away, if you know what I mean…”

Part of the reason she’d agreed to go on the retreat was because Lex knew Ryan would be there. She figured if she had to spend the day eating rabbit food and sitting around on cushions discussing Gaia, at least she could spend all night naked and intertwined with her hot-bodied co-worker, enjoying no-strings sex.

Now, the idea seemed repulsive. Lex shook my head slowly. “The only person I want in my room that weekend is someone who’ll rub me the right way – by which I mean the retreat masseur. MacNamara will have to rub himself.”

“Are my ears burning?” Ryan stood at the doorway, smirking.

“Ears or crotch, MacNamara? I hear syphilis makes a lot of things burn.” Calmly, Lex turned back to her emails, allowing both Ryan and Liesl to go on their merry way.

The second blow to her pocket came just after lunch, with an email from Wilson, one of the senior executives.

Dear valued staff member,

As you know, we encourage all of our employees to purchase shares alongside our clients, as a measure of good faith in what we do. This month, there is a promising corporation…

She skimmed through until she found the mandatory purchase minimum: $7,000. Her stomach sank. She didn’t have that much in cash, but with the massive promotion looming over her head, she wasn’t about to sabotage herself by not following company policy.

Another email from one of her banks caught Lex’s eye: Need cash fast? Clicking through, she tilted her head cynically. Why, yes. Yes, I do.

Twenty minutes later, another ten grand hit her account. She’d barely glanced at the astronomical interest rate or the significant monthly loan fee; in another month, she’d be a senior executive, earning almost double, and none of it would be a problem.

By the time she’d paid for the shares and caught up on the rest of my work, it was getting dark outside. The lights along the Sydney Harbour Bridge had begun to twinkle, and she found herself taking a moment to notice the way they reflected in the water below. She hadn’t found time to do any brown-nosing, or make MacNamara’s life difficult, but somehow, she didn’t feel as though the day was wasted.

Her secretary came in to say good night. “Oh, the front desk wanted to know, where do you want this?” She held Otis’ guitar in her twig-like arms, dwarfed by the instrument.

Lex inwardly smiled at the physical reminder of the man who waited at home for her. “Put it behind my door, please.”

She blinked, and Lex realised she was taken back with the use of ‘please’ – twice in twenty-four hours was a record for her. Don’t make it a habit, she admonished herself.

Her office contained zero personal artefacts; Lex’s working theory was that the less her co-workers knew about her, the less ammunition they could use against her. But with a slice of Otis resting opposite her desk, it suddenly felt as though the room was warmer and lighter.

As Lex smiled and reached for her bag, there was a tiny pang at the base of her skull. Guilt. She forced it down; after all, she’d be reuniting him with his music maker soon enough. How soon was up to him.

Liesl and Lex rode the elevator down together. “Do you want to have dinner after you finish at the gym?” Liesl said. They ate together in the city a few times a week, not as friends, just as warm bodies who hated sitting in gourmet restaurants alone.

“Not tonight, thanks. I think I’ll just head home and eat there.” An image of Otis waiting with hot food made her smile. Sure, his idea of cooking was probably microwave meat pies and sauce, but still.

Liesl was already playing on her phone, disinterested. “Suit yourself.”

Lex’s gym regime was militant; at least an hour, twenty minutes each on the elliptical trainer, the rowing machine and the treadmill, with reps of abs and upper-body in between. She didn’t love the gym necessarily, but she punished herself as much as possible, because it was the only way she could wind her stressed-out body down and sleep at the end of each day.

But that night, she kept checking the clock, feeling sluggish and longing just to head home. So, I will. She jumped off the treadmill without even bothering to check how many kilometres she’d run, and left the soulless sweat-box.

In the taxi, Lex couldn’t seem to stop her fingers from tapping along to every 80’s tune playing on the tinny radio; she even gave the guy a tip. Bewildered, she paused for a second on the sidewalk outside her house. What is happening to me? Her day had been a bust, her accounts were emptied, her work-out had been paltry, and she had to do it all again the next day, and yet, her mood was elevated.

Looking in the lighted windows of her terrace home, she could see Otis pottering around, his freshly-washed hair appearing shades lighter, and his flannel shirt tied around his waist as a make-shift apron. A flutter in her throat at the sight of her new housemate gave her the answer to er cheerful countenance.

Settle down, she told herself. He’s not a real housemate, and you guys aren’t a couple. You’re both just using each other, which is how the world works. He’s got food and a place to sleep, and you’ll get his body.

I don’t believe you, said the small voice inside her heart.

Shrugging existential thoughts away, she walked inside.

Otis called out from the dining room. “Hey, Brown-eyes! Good timing!”

She followed the luscious smells like a cartoon character floating on a breeze. “What is this?”

He beamed at her, hands on his hips. “Dinner! Smoked salmon and feta pasta.”

Lex couldn’t answer for a moment, floored by the elegant presentation of the dish and the simple fact someone had made her dinner. “You can actually cook?”

Laughing, he said, “Thanks for the faith in me! Yeah, I can make a few things pretty well, when I have the access to the right ingredients.”

He pulled out a chair, and she stared at him. “What?”

“Sit! Eat!”

“Oh…” Feeling stupid for not realising that he had pulled it out for her, Lex slid into the rarely used dining setting. “Do guys still do that?”

“The chair thing? I don’t know about all guys, but I do.” He sat opposite her and lifted a water glass in her direction, his ivy eyes glowing. “Cheers!”

No one in her world ever managed to fluster Lex; Otis had a knack for it. She reached for her own tumbler, knocking it clumsily and spilling water on the marble surface of the table. “Cheers, yourself,” she said as she finally managed to tap their glasses together, then she scooped a forkful of pasta to her mouth. “Wow! This is really good! Have you considered giving up music for a career in food?”

“Thanks!” His grin faltered a little as he went on. “I know you’re kidding, but I’ve already given up one career for music – I’m not ever leaving my passion again.”

“What was your other career?” Lex hated small talk in all forms, usually choosing to opt out of conversations with strangers than engage. But she was desperately curious to know more about Otis, and his every word was a fascinating glimpse into a man who was different to her in every way.

“I spent almost three years at uni studying accounting.”

Her mouth fell open and a piece of snow pea fell out. Clapping a hand over her gob, she giggled, mostly at her own table manners. “What? You were going to be an accountant?”

“Yeah, yeah, you can laugh,” he said, grinning and rolling his eyes. “I didn’t exactly have a choice about it.”

“What do you mean?” Her life was nothing but choice; I do what I want, when I want, who I want. The concept that Otis might not have had the same luxury was confronting.

He waved the topic away. “Let’s talk about something else; how was your day?”

And, remarkably, she found myself telling him all about it, in great detail, her voice rising and falling, her gestures wide. When the meal was done, she jumped up to clear the dishes, needing to show her gratitude for both the meal and the company. “So… What do you want to do after we clean up?”

“What do you normally do on a weeknight?” he asked, trailing after her into the kitchen.

Browse Buzzfeed, buy stuff on The Iconic, masturbate if I can’t sleep… “Uh, we can see what’s on TV?”

“Cool beans.”

With the thought of a night of company on the couch with a gorgeous man who she actually liked as a human being, Lex smiled, then caught herself.

This is supposed to be about the sex.

Except it wasn’t – not really. Even though she couldn’t acknowledge it yet, her heart was shifting against her will.

Welcome back, my lovely reader! There's so much I like about this odd couple - Lex, the corporate diva and Otis, the goofy song-bird :) Please leave me a vote, and let me know - do you think more money just means more problems?