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“It’s the next phase of our business, Luke. We’ve been restorin’ old homes and shit for Mom and Dad and people who already want to buy them, and we’re losin’ out on a serious cut of those sold profits. If we flipped and sold ourselves, we’d get more money out of the same damn job.”
“None of the brothers have a real estate license.”
Everett grinned at me and I rolled my eyes.
“When did you get your real estate license?”
“Tested for it and passed a couple weeks ago.”
“Well, good for you. Have you run this by any of the other guys?”
“Yep. And because your ass has been down and out, you’re the last one that needs to approve this.”
“Okay. So, my professional opinion is this: these people want upwards of one million for a dilapidated property that’s going to need at least five hundred thousand in repairs alone. Not to mention upgrades. By the time we’re done, we’d have to sell at two million just to break even. And properties that sit on this kind of small patch of land don’t ever sell for two million. Not even with fully-updated interiors.”
“So, that’s a no?” he asked.
“Depends on how creative you get,” I said, grinning.
“I’m listenin’.”
“It’s a plantation, right? And it needs a metric shit ton of work. The thing right now that’s hot on the market, though, is in-law quarters.”
“You wanna split the property and make one house two houses.”
“Yep. It’ll take more time, but if we demolish this portion, break down these walls, and build a covered walkway between the two sections…”
I drew with a sharpie on the pictures, trying to piece together what was coming along in my mind.
“There. We outfit the smaller piece as an in-law quarters, put in its own air conditioning and small kitchen. Things like that. Then, we can sell this property for almost four million while sinking maybe two and a quarter million into it, maybe.”
“That doubles our return on investment,” he said.
“It does. It’ll take a little longer, but not double the time. So, it’s worth it in the end. Have you talked to the Historical Society about this house?”
“That’s why I wanted all of y’all’s approval. We’ll have to battle it out with them in this one.”
“Everett. Why are you bringing us houses that require legal battles?” I asked.
“Because I think I know how to get around it with them on this one. And if we can get their approval and still slap a historical landmark on it—”
“We can sell it for more.”
“Exactly,” he said, nodding.
“So, what’s your idea?”
“This particular plantation still has the bare bones underground routes the owners used to help get slaves north. Most houses around here have had theirs caved in or sealed up with cement, but not this house.”
“Do the corridors fuck with the foundation?” I asked.
“Nope. Already checked with the permission of the owners. And I don’t think these new renovations would fuck with it either. If we can promise the Historical Society that our building and reconstruction won’t jeopardize those tunnels and that we won’t fill them up, I think they’ll let us go ahead with it.”
“Well, we’ve got a good relationship with them thus far. Though they did block us on that property a few weeks ago. Derailed Flynn’s entire idea of adding a damn basement.”
“I think we got it. So long as we guarantee those corridors stay and we keep the outside historically accurate with its colors and designs, I think they’ll be in our corner for this one.”
“Sounds good,” I said.
