Chapter 5 The High Profile Client Coming Into Town

• It was two days later, the atmosphere in Valerie’s mansion felt thick with a sense of impending change; a demotion from what was to the ghetto reality of things. She sat on the plush velvet sofa in her vast sitting room, dressed in a simple lilac sweater and black leggings—an outfit far from her usual high fashion. Her feets savoured the warmth of the rug beneath her feet. She tapped her fingers nervously against her knee, glancing every so often at the ornate mirrors and then to the grand chandeliers, as though they were somehow watching her, and judging her. She wished they could talk. Her heart was heavy with the weight of what was going to happen. This house, with its grandeur and beauty, was more than just a residence; it was the last symbol of the life she’d always known. It occurred to her that she had never set foot in the boys quarter nor imagined life there.
• A knock on the front door startled her, snapping her out of her thoughts. She took a deep breath, straightened her back, and called out, “Come in.”
• Layla entered first, looking sympathetic yet still managed a smile, followed by a man in a crisp, well-tailored suit. His hair was neatly combed, his face sharp and professional, carrying an air of authority that was both reassuring and intimidating. He held a portfolio in one hand, his gaze sweeping across the opulent interior with an approving look.
• “Valerie, this is Mr Kingsley, the agent I mentioned,” Layla introduced, nodding toward the man. “He specialises in high-end real estate and has some clients who might be interested in a property like yours.”
• Valerie extended a hand politely, though her insides felt like they were twisting into knots. “Mr Kingsley, thank you for coming.”
• “Of course,” Mr Kingsley replied, shaking her hand firmly. “Your friend Layla here gave me a brief overview of your situation. I understand you’re hoping to sell the property urgently?”
• Valerie nodded, shifting uncomfortably. “Yes, if possible, in the next three days. I… I need the funds urgently to take care of some… pressing issues.”
• Mr Kingsley’s brows knitted together, and he took a moment to respond. “Miss Davis, I must be honest with you. Selling a property like this in three days would be extremely challenging. This estate, with its unique luxury features and specific target market, would likely take at least a few weeks to find a serious buyer willing to meet the asking price. It’s a very niche sale, and buyers of this calibre typically don’t make rush decisions.”
• Valerie’s face fell, her hope draining away. She glanced at Layla, who placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, offering silent support.
• “But,” Mr Kingsley continued, his voice firm and thoughtful, “there is another option you might want to consider if you need funds sooner. I have a high-profile client coming into town this weekend who is in need of a temporary residence—something private, discreet, and upscale. He’d be interested in renting the property as a shortlet for two months, and he’s willing to pay a generous amount to secure such a location.”
• Valerie looked at him, processing this new suggestion. The idea of renting her house even though it was a better option, allowing someone else to live here, was uncomfortable. This was her home, the furnishings and everything were just as she has always wanted it, the last piece of her former life that she still held onto. She groaned at the idea of the little or no choice she had, and if she couldn’t sell the house quickly, perhaps renting it out would at least give her some immediate relief.
• She pulled Layla aside to a corner of the room, whispering, “Layla, do you think a shortlet is a good idea? I’ve never done anything like this before, and I don’t know if I’m comfortable letting a stranger live here.”
• Layla looked at her with a mix of sympathy and reassurance. “Valerie, listen. You’re in serious debt, and this could be a quick solution to cover some of what you owe. Mr Kingsley’s client sounds like he’s willing to pay well, and you wouldn’t have to give up the house entirely. You’d just be sharing it, temporarily.”
• “But what if…” Valerie started, hesitating, still clinging to her reservations.
• “Val, you need money, urgently,” Layla reminded her softly but firmly. “This isn’t the time to hold back. It’s temporary, and it could really help you out of this mess. You can survive without the house for a couple of weeks.”
• Valerie sighed, her eyes darting around the room as she considered it. She knew Layla was right, even if it stung to hear it. Relinquishing her space to a stranger, if only for a little while, was the only way forward if she wanted a fighting chance at clearing some of her debts and surviving this.
• After a deep breath, Valerie nodded. “Alright. Let’s do it.”
• Layla smiled encouragingly, squeezing Valerie’s hand. “Good. It’ll be okay. You’re making a smart choice.”
• They returned to Mr Kingsley, who watched them with a patient but professional look on his face, his portfolio still clutched in his hand.
• “We’ve decided,” Valerie said, trying to project confidence, though her voice wavered slightly. “We’ll agree to the shortlet for two months.”
• Mr Kingsley smiled approvingly. “Excellent. I’ll make sure to draft a temporary lease agreement, and I’ll handle all the details to ensure the client respects the property and your privacy. You should receive the first payment within 48 hours, as he’ll want to secure the property before his arrival.”
• Valerie nodded, a mixture of relief and anxiety pooling in her chest. This was happening, and there was no going back now. Mr Kingsley went over a few more logistical details with her, and as he spoke, she wondered what was going to become of her in the boys quarters.
• When Mr Kingsley left, she and Layla stood in the living room, the silence settling over them again. Layla turned to her with a soft smile. “You will be fine”