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I once conned a geologist ($25,000 plus a Fender Stratocaster) who told me the tectonic plates beneath us are always shifting. Always moving, even if we never felt them.
I’d thought a lot about that over the years. The idea that we were out there, living our lives, thinking only about the next thing we needed to do, never noticing the incremental shift that was happening below. That one day, we’d look up and realize everything had changed.
Taking Celia’s lake house shifted things for me. I began waking up in the middle of the night, not thinking about Phillip or the job I was in the middle of working, but of Ron. Memories of my house on Canyon Drive. My mother’s laughter. I began dreaming of possibilities I thought were long gone, back now with a fresh coat of potential. What I was doing here, I could do again for myself. For my mother.
I’d need a different approach for Ron, though. There was no way I could float into Los Angeles as a life coach and convince him to sell me Canyon Drive for $20,000. He had decades of experience buying and selling real estate, with hundreds of transactions behind him. I was going to have to level up.
My research started out as a jumble of ideas scribbled into my notebook. I began by exploring the circumstances under which a property might not be sold at market value. If the seller wasn’t going to deliberately underprice it as Phillip was, you’d have to make them believe the property was worth less, through inspection reports outlining significant damage and appraisers willing to corroborate.
The universe will always give you what you need.Phillip became my case study. How to lay the groundwork. Figure out what worked, and if there were mistakes to be made, I would make them here. The other part of it—the life coaching—was just making sure I got paid for my time.
***
Phillip and I stood side by side in front of a vision board I’d created, a mishmash of various words, inspirational quotes, and images. I’d gotten the idea off Pinterest, and Phillip seemed to think it was sufficiently new age to be legitimate.
“You’re going to need to get an inspection and appraisal for the lake house,” I said.
Phillip turned to face me. “Won’t that defeat the purpose of selling under market value?”
I shook my head. “Look, a judge is going to want to see them. Your attorneys will too. I can make it so that the reports say what we need them to say. In the meantime”—I handed Phillip the contract with the $20,000 purchase price—“sign and initial where I’ve indicated. Leave the date blank for now.”
Phillip scanned the document I’d downloaded from a do-it-yourself real estate website. “It’s boilerplate,” I said. “As an extra layer, I listed my company as the buyer, and I’ll be waiving most of the contingencies. When I’m done with the inspection report, it’ll lower the value where we need it.”
Phillip signed and initialed where I’d marked, then handed the contract back to me.
“You’re making great progress so far, Mr. Montgomery,” I said, tucking it back into my purse. “Let’s keep up the good work. Your next retainer is due at the end of next week. I’ll email you the invoice.”
We were three months and $150,000 into the job by then, not counting the $200,000 I got when I sold his furniture, and the stress of executing the plan was beginning to weigh on Phillip. He looked haggard, as if he wasn’t sleeping well. “I’m worried this isn’t going to work,” he said. “What if they figure out what I’m doing? Not only would it ruin me financially, but my reputation in town would be trashed.”
I placed a hand on his arm and squeezed gently. “Look at me.” When he did, I said, “This is the hardest part. But remember, you’re not doing anything wrong. You’re spending money on your mental health. To find a better physical and emotional state. You’re selling a house that will have a ton of structural damage—a property you can no longer afford to carry—and you’ll split what you get for it fifty-fifty—ten thousand for you, ten thousand for her. There are a lot of ways to frame this so that you end up looking okay. But the one thing you cannot do is doubt. You have to believe that what we’re doing is legitimate, because how you frame things in your mind is how you present them to the world.”
He nodded, and I could see he was coming back around. The fear was subsiding. I needed him with me just a little bit longer.
***
The internet made it easy to keep track of Ron Ashton over the years. Public records showed he still lived in my house on Canyon Drive. Online news sites told about his upcoming run for state senate. But it was an article on a local Los Angeles real estate blog about a predatory agent who’d sexually harassed a client that gave me my approach. Mick Martin has been the longtime agent for Los Angeles developer Ron Ashton, who is rumored to be considering a run for state senate. Mr. Ashton declined to comment.
This job required me to see connections others couldn’t. I had to think ten steps ahead and imagine several scenarios simultaneously. Over the years, my instincts had become razor sharp, and I was rarely wrong.
I looked up Mick Martin and found that there had been two reports of sexual harassment to the California State Real Estate Board. According to their bylaws, three would be enough to permanently suspend his license. My fingers flew across the keys of my laptop, opening new tabs, conducting several new Google searches. How to report sexual harassment to the California Real Estate Board. Another one, How to get a California real estate license, and finally, Online real estate license classes, California.
I looked around my tiny apartment, the shades drawn against the dark night, and I began another list in my journal of things I’d need to do to get ready. A website for a boutique real estate agency. Another one for me, outlining several years of high-end sales. An agency phone number with a friendly, outgoing message. I bought several books about real estate, knowing I’d need to arrive already an expert.
It meant leaving Pennsylvania as soon as the title for the lake house recorded, several months before I’d intended. Sometimes, you have to leave a job early—you either run through other people’s goodwill or you realize the risk of finishing it isn’t worth what you’d gain by staying. This time, it was because I had to be back and in position well before the November election.
A spark of excitement danced around inside of me as I realized I would end my career where it started.
They say you can never go home again.
This is a lie.
Los Angeles
Present Day
