The Lies I Tell(74)
Then I usher him inside. “It needs some updating—fresh paint and new appliances, but those things can be done in a week.” I point out the hardwood floors, a river rock fireplace, and an open-concept living room that leads to the kitchen. “Five bedrooms, all on this level. Plus a maid’s quarters.”
I trail him, letting his imagination take over. “Huge kitchen, which can easily accommodate a full catering staff,” I say as we pass through. “Hookups for a double washer and dryer through there.”
Out back, we stand on an enormous flagstone patio with incredible views of the canyon dropping below in the distance. “Few city lights out here, so the stars at night are magnificent.”
We spend an hour walking the property, and I feel his interest building, my own excitement growing. This is the centerpiece of my plan. Without it, I’ll have nothing to show for my time here other than a commission on the sale of a house that should have always been mine.
“I know you’ll be spending most of your time in Sacramento,” I say when we’re done and back in the car. “But you’ll need a place to get away. To recharge. All the most influential politicians have something like this, and as the saying goes, dress for the job you want, not the job you have.” At the light at the base of the canyon, I add my last layer of persuasion. “I think it’s doable. With what you got from the Canyon Drive sale, you won’t have to make up too much of the difference—three million maybe. My advice would be to think about it carefully. Run the numbers with your business manager, but don’t take too long. There are three different showings on the property this afternoon, and it’s going to sell fast. But my friend owes me a favor. She can make sure ours is the first offer on the table, and if we can make it all cash, that’ll be competitive enough to take it off the market.”
I let that sit while we drive back to the Beverly Hills office, where we’ve left Ron’s car. His left elbow rests on the center console, and I think about how easy it would be to reach across and invite something a little more intimate. An extra layer of scandal that could come out at the worst possible time. Sexual harassment of his real estate agent, right before the election.
I’ll be honest, I really considered it. Back in Pennsylvania, when I was researching the best entry point, I was tempted by how much damage I could do as his girlfriend. But no matter how many ways I tried to reconcile it in my mind, it felt like a bridge too far. The ghost of my mother would be too close, her voice whispering things I didn’t want to hear.
By the time we get back to the office, Ron is ready. “Draw up the paperwork,” he says. “I’ll call Steve and put him to work gathering the cash.”
I turn to him. “You sure?” I ask. “It’s a lot of money.” I hold up my hand and laugh. “I know I spent all morning talking you into it, and now here I am trying to talk you out of it,” I say. “But I don’t want you to do something you’re not comfortable with. If it’s too big of a risk, we can go back to looking for another apartment building. Add to your portfolio and proceed with the status quo.”
It’s the perfect thing to say. “Risk is what makes life worth living,” he says. “Let’s put in an offer for full asking price, all cash.”
I give him a cautious look. “Will you be able to assemble it that fast?”
Ron looks out the window. “David and I set something up with the campaign that allows us to have an emergency reserve of cash.”
“You sure you want to risk that so close to the election?” I ask. “If it gets out…” I trail off, letting him imagine the fallout.
“Let me worry about the money and you just focus on getting the deal done. I want a short escrow. It would be a great place to hold a victory party. If the house isn’t ready, we can set up tents, get a caterer to bring in the food.”
I smile. “You got it.”
***
I wait twenty-four hours, then call with the good news. “They accepted our offer, and the seller agreed to all of our terms. We’re set to close in fourteen days—two weeks before the election.”
“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.”