Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 94460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
The impact of this discovery hit me. He’d been scraping by in college and now this?
That also meant he not only owned that Range Rover, he owned the Maserati, too. He had purposely kept me in the dark for the last couple of weeks.
I didn’t blame him, but it still stung.
After I graduated from Duquesne, I had no idea just how differently our lives would turn out. He’d been scraping by back then, now it was me.
The person in the elevator had been right. I could easily see that the penthouse took up the whole top floor, since the floor plan was open concept. Nothing like the apartment I leased on the sixth floor.
I swore my place would fit in what might be considered his living room. It could be considered a “great room” due to it being so massive with no walls separating it from the kitchen, a cozy sitting nook to the side with a huge TV, and a dining area.
From where I still stood at the bottom of the spiral staircase, I took in everything I could see. From the exposed brick accent walls in contrast with the earth-tone colored drywall, to the huge leather sectional that faced a long line of windows where one could sit and appreciate the twinkling lights of the city beyond.
“You are the building’s owner,” I said, still in shock.
“I am.”
He had hidden that fact from me. On purpose.
I tried not to let that eat at me as I walked through the large chef’s kitchen fitted with all stainless steel Viking brand appliances. Those were quite the investment. I wondered if he ever used them since they looked spotless. Not a smudge to be seen. “That’s quite an achievement.”
I’d never been in a place quite like this. Admittedly, it was stunning and perfectly decorated. Neat and tidy with zero clutter and nothing left out on the counters, unlike the average American home. Definitely too neat for a single man living a bachelor’s life.
It was also very modern. Everything screamed quality. From what I could see, the interior design and decor weren’t overdone but done right. While the wealth needed behind it was easily recognizable by someone like me who grew up around it, it was also both subtle and tasteful.
I even spotted a few art pieces. Again, all of it unpretentious and all in good taste.
“Ronan… You’ve done well for yourself.” I was having difficulty wrapping my head around this whole thing.
“You sound surprised. But,” he casually lifted and dropped one shoulder, “I work hard. Or I used to. I don’t have to work quite as much anymore. Or as hard.”
My brow furrowed. “Why? What does that mean?”
I wasn’t sure if he’d explain since it meant telling me details he apparently hadn’t wanted me to know.
“I bought my first house not long after I graduated. It needed a lot of work, of course, to be in my price range. I had to do most of the rehab myself, along with help from a few good friends, to save money and make it habitable. Once it was done, I immediately got an offer on it I couldn’t refuse, unless I was a fool. I accepted the offer and ended up making a nice chunk of change in profit. After that, I bought another fixer-upper because I had learned a lot with the first one. I flipped the second house, took that money and invested it into a larger, multi-family house. When I flipped that, I invested in my first apartment building. A smaller one I lived in for a while and still own. Now I buy run-down apartment buildings—mostly foreclosures and short-sales—throughout the city and surrounding areas, rehab them from top to bottom, then rent the units out or turn them into condo co-ops.”
“You’re good with your hands.” Among other things.
The last thing I expected Roe to do out of college was go into construction. By the end of his sophomore year he had picked Entrepreneurship as his major.
I figured once he graduated, he might go into the tech business, which had been quickly growing at the time. Instead, it sounded like he turned flipping homes into a business. So, maybe he was using his degree the best way he could.
“I no longer do the work. I now have a full crew on the payroll for the rehabs. They also do maintenance and repairs on my occupied buildings. They’re highly skilled and reliable because I pay them well for their expertise, whether it be electrical, carpentry, HVAC or plumbing. If they can’t handle a specific job, I hire a subcontractor. I no longer buy single- or multi-family homes. I stick to higher capacity buildings. Like this one.”
While I listened with interest to him tell me about his start in business, the whole time I was not only thrilled with his success, but the fact he was actually opening up to me when I didn’t think he’d tell me anything at all.