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Authors: Jill Marie Landis
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back through the house to the front porch and looked up the coast again.
Glenn caught up and fished his car keys out of his pocket.
“Well, at least I can tell Tracy I’ve seen it. We certainly can’t recommend it to any of our clients until the owners do something with it.”
“I’ll take it.” Four hours from Long Beach, from his family and business, Jake realized what he was about to do was either the smartest or the dumbest thing he’d ever done in his life.
“You want it?” Glenn Potter’s coffee-colored eyes mushroomed to the size of silver-dollar pancakes. “You want to rent it?”
It was exactly the kind of house Jake’s stepfather, Manny Olson, had always dreamed of owning but could never afford. Long Beach was full of old Craftsman homes, many in historically designated neighborhoods. Manny had always talked of buying one and restoring it to its original state.
The fact that this house overlooked the ocean, the idea that absentee owners might be willing to sell quickly for less than the place was worth made it too attractive to simply walk away from.
Jake had adored his step-dad as much as he had his real father. A talented carpenter, Manny had been kind and gentle, a man who had to work so hard on other people’s homes that he never had time to fix up his own, let alone make his dream come true.
“I want it.” Jake shook his head, barely able to believe what he was saying.
“Mind if I ask why ?”
Jake shrugged. “My step-dad always wanted to renovate a place like this.”
He had no idea when or how Manny’s dream had become his own. Maybe it had happened the minute he’d laid eyes on this house. He was just as shocked to discover he might have inherited a touch of his Grandpa Montgomery’s business savvy. Not everyone could overlook the terrible state the place was in and see it for what it was—a damn good investment.
He figured all he had to do was lease the house until the owners decided whether or not to sell, come up with the down payment, and make the monthly mortgage. He could always turn around, list it with the Potters as a vacation rental when he was in Long Beach, and block out time for his own visits.
That way he would know that it was here waiting for him, and if things didn’t work out, he could always resell it for a profit.
Jake mentally tabulated the amount of money he had in savings and figured it was nowhere near enough for a down payment, not for a place with a killer view like this, even a house in such poor condition. Most buyers would consider the place a tear down and build something sprawling and modern that would encompass all the views.
“I’d like to take the lease with an option to buy, but I want it locked up tight so that the house can’t be sold out from under me. I may even be in a position to make an offer after I run some numbers.”
He couldn’t buy the place outright, but a lack of funds had never stopped him from going after something he really wanted. He had started his own business on a couple of loans that hadn’t amounted to a shoestring, yet he’d managed to grow a business and survive.
Staring out at the horizon, at the blue bands of sea and sky, he decided that if he had to, he would do the one thing he always swore he would never do—ask his grandfather for a loan.
He’d never done anything so spur-of-the-moment before. Back when he and Marla had started dating at sixteen, he’d known from the first that she was the only one for him. It had still taken him five years to propose.
The night their marriage imploded she had accused him of being pedantic and predictable. To her, the assets he’d needed in his business—attention to detail, focus, organization—all added up to boring. In her eyes he was single-minded, never spontaneous. He ran his life on a schedule—had to in order to accomplish everything he needed to.
While he’d been building a business, doing surveillance, running all over hell and gone,
Glenn caught up and fished his car keys out of his pocket.
“Well, at least I can tell Tracy I’ve seen it. We certainly can’t recommend it to any of our clients until the owners do something with it.”
“I’ll take it.” Four hours from Long Beach, from his family and business, Jake realized what he was about to do was either the smartest or the dumbest thing he’d ever done in his life.
“You want it?” Glenn Potter’s coffee-colored eyes mushroomed to the size of silver-dollar pancakes. “You want to rent it?”
It was exactly the kind of house Jake’s stepfather, Manny Olson, had always dreamed of owning but could never afford. Long Beach was full of old Craftsman homes, many in historically designated neighborhoods. Manny had always talked of buying one and restoring it to its original state.
The fact that this house overlooked the ocean, the idea that absentee owners might be willing to sell quickly for less than the place was worth made it too attractive to simply walk away from.
Jake had adored his step-dad as much as he had his real father. A talented carpenter, Manny had been kind and gentle, a man who had to work so hard on other people’s homes that he never had time to fix up his own, let alone make his dream come true.
“I want it.” Jake shook his head, barely able to believe what he was saying.
“Mind if I ask why ?”
Jake shrugged. “My step-dad always wanted to renovate a place like this.”
He had no idea when or how Manny’s dream had become his own. Maybe it had happened the minute he’d laid eyes on this house. He was just as shocked to discover he might have inherited a touch of his Grandpa Montgomery’s business savvy. Not everyone could overlook the terrible state the place was in and see it for what it was—a damn good investment.
He figured all he had to do was lease the house until the owners decided whether or not to sell, come up with the down payment, and make the monthly mortgage. He could always turn around, list it with the Potters as a vacation rental when he was in Long Beach, and block out time for his own visits.
That way he would know that it was here waiting for him, and if things didn’t work out, he could always resell it for a profit.
Jake mentally tabulated the amount of money he had in savings and figured it was nowhere near enough for a down payment, not for a place with a killer view like this, even a house in such poor condition. Most buyers would consider the place a tear down and build something sprawling and modern that would encompass all the views.
“I’d like to take the lease with an option to buy, but I want it locked up tight so that the house can’t be sold out from under me. I may even be in a position to make an offer after I run some numbers.”
He couldn’t buy the place outright, but a lack of funds had never stopped him from going after something he really wanted. He had started his own business on a couple of loans that hadn’t amounted to a shoestring, yet he’d managed to grow a business and survive.
Staring out at the horizon, at the blue bands of sea and sky, he decided that if he had to, he would do the one thing he always swore he would never do—ask his grandfather for a loan.
He’d never done anything so spur-of-the-moment before. Back when he and Marla had started dating at sixteen, he’d known from the first that she was the only one for him. It had still taken him five years to propose.
The night their marriage imploded she had accused him of being pedantic and predictable. To her, the assets he’d needed in his business—attention to detail, focus, organization—all added up to boring. In her eyes he was single-minded, never spontaneous. He ran his life on a schedule—had to in order to accomplish everything he needed to.
While he’d been building a business, doing surveillance, running all over hell and gone,
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