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“How soon can we get the inspection done?” he asks.
“Already scheduled for Thursday and we should get the report early next week. The sellers have also signed, so the contract is fully executed. If all goes well, we close and have you in the house on election night.”
“That would be amazing.”
I read through the escrow documents on the screen in front of me, looking to make sure everything is exactly as it should be. Seven million dollars, all cash, a fourteen-day escrow contingent on the inspection not turning up anything too alarming.
Which it won’t.
My next call is to Ron’s business manager, Steve Martucci.
When he answers, I infuse my voice with warmth, tinged with an edge of flirtation. “Hey Steve, it’s Meg Williams, how are you?”
“Meg!” Steve’s been handling Ron’s business affairs for over thirty years. “Congratulations on the new deal. You and Ron are turning into quite a team.”
“I’m thrilled to finally find him something,” I say. “He’s a lot of work.”
Steve laughs and says, “Don’t I know it. What can I do for you?”
“I just want to touch base and let you know what we’re going to need from you to get the Mandeville Canyon property into escrow.” I soften my voice. “Although I know you’re a pro and have done this a thousand times before.”
Steve chuckles and says, “Two thousand times. But you’re not so bad yourself,” he says. “The Canyon Drive transaction was one of the smoothest I’ve ever seen. You’re a huge improvement over Ron’s last agent, Mick. I never liked him.”
I think back to the afternoon shortly after I’d arrived in Los Angeles and the three properties Mick had shown me. The way he stood too close, waiting for a signal that I might be open to more. When I gave it, he didn’t hesitate. “I’m so glad someone finally reported him. Thankfully, not all men are like that.”
My allusion is clear—Steve is one of the good guys. And like most people, he will do everything he can to live up to that impression. “What escrow company are you guys using this time?” he asks.
I’ve done my research on all the different escrow companies Ron has used over the years and have selected one that will be familiar but not recent. “Orange Coast,” I tell him.
After an offer has been accepted, the buyer will get an email from the escrow officer saying Congratulations on your new home! In that email will be a secure link to escrow and wiring instructions.
“You should get an email from the escrow officer within the hour, with the link to transfer funds,” I say. “I’ve made sure they’re ready to send the escrow docs and preliminary title report as well, since our timeline is so tight. We’ll need the usual 3 percent of the purchase price as a deposit, and as soon as we get through the inspection, I’ll get you a firm closing date.” I’ve only closed two deals in the entirety of my career, but even to my ears, I sound like a pro.
I hang up the phone, a bubble of joy dancing inside of me. This is what years of hard work can get you, if you stay focused and dedicated to your craft. I wander into the kitchen to fix myself a sandwich and eat standing at the kitchen counter, staring into the backyard—a flat patch of grass, tended by a gardener who comes once a week, paid for by a landlord I’ve never met. A fire pit sits in the back corner, the cover dusted with pollen and dry bird droppings, four unused chairs gathered around.
Shrieks of laughter and then the splash of someone jumping into a pool float over the fence from next door, pulling me back to the task at hand. I dump the remains of my sandwich in the trash and return to my computer, my mind mapping out the next two weeks. If all goes well, by the time early voting starts, there will be no way for Ron to extract himself.
But first, I need to put together an inspection report that will back up what I’ve already told Ron, and I’ll need to start packing. Once again, I’ll be leaving almost everything behind. I scan the room, trying to imagine what it’ll feel like after I’m gone. With everything left just as it is, for Kat to uncover.
