Duplicity - A True Story of Crime and Deceit by Paul Goldman (general ebook reader .TXT) 📕

of my previous condo, but who also remainedin my memory as one of the most professional people I had everdealt with. Throughout both transactions, Brent was honest,thorough, and incomparably knowledgeable about his field.Remarkably, in the typically complex and frustrating world of realestate transactions, Brent saw to it that I never spent a moment ofworry. For this reason, I entrusted him to find a summer home formy new family.

Taking only a few minutesto catch up, Brent informed me of a newly built, family orientedcommunity that he believed would be perfect for our situation andneeds. The community was known as SaratogaRanch and it not only boasted spacioushomes with modern amenities, the development itself also offeredpools, water parks, and activities for kids all within the confinesof the community’s gates. I asked him to send me all the availablelistings immediately and I called Audrey into my office. Withinmoments, the beep of my computer announced a new email. We openedit together.

The houses Brent sent included lengthydescriptions, magazine quality photos, and even virtual tours.Audrey and I clicked away at the pictures with the giddiness ofchildren opening presents. After a dozen or so listings, we foundone that seemed absolutely perfect. Though the seller failed todetail them, the pictures revealed tons of upgrades and, given theasking price, it appeared to be an absolute steal.

“I think it would beperfect, Paul,” Audrey whispered, resting her head on my shoulder.The smell of her lilac scented perfume was intoxicating, and I wovemy arm around her back, pulling her in closer.

“It is perfect. I’ll callBrent and make an offer,” I promised, once again savoring the roleof provider.

“An offer?” she asked, asshe popped her head up in surprise, her eyebrowscrinkled.

“Well, yes. This place isway under priced, and so we really can’t waste time,” I explained,gently pulling her back towards me. “We need to move quickly if wewant to get it.”

“Uh, I don’t think so,”she replied, pulling herself away from my clutch. “Really, we needto fly out there and see it first before rushing in, sight unseen,with an offer.”

Her tone was all business, and I felt like Iwas being scolded. It’s not like I’d never bought a housebefore.

“No,we don’t,”I replied, matching her tone. “I know Brent wouldn’t send me amoney pit, and I also know the value of the homes out there.Opportunities like this rarely present themselves. We can't riskwasting any time.” I was insistent, and my insistence was met witha look of disgust. Audrey was now sitting straight up in her seat,with her arms folded.

“Well, don’t I have a sayin this? I mean, it’s not like you’re the one who gets to call allthe shots here. I’m not just some stay-at-home mom that doesn’tknow anything else. I know things about running a business,” sheargued.

“Just some stay-at-homemom? What is this about?” I looked at her quizzically, trying tounderstand her hostility that came on so quickly and surprisingly.“Of course you have a say… why are you so angry?”

“I’m not angry!” she shotback. “I just don’t think it’s smart to jump into such a hugepurchase with little thought or planning. I mean, you rush intoeverything.”

“Everything?”

“You always rush intothings. Look at us,” she continued, now rising from her seat as heremotions began to take hold. “We hardly dated and you were readywith a proposal. Who gets married after only four monthsanyway?”

“You do!” I said, as Istood up, refusing to let her beat me up about something Iapparently did not understand. “And I proposed because I knew Iloved you and I knew what I wanted, and if you didn’t, then youshouldn’t have said ‘yes,’ should you?” I could feel my face flushas well concealed doubts and fears about our relationship began tobubble to the surface. I felt like I had been ambushed. We wentfrom loving and tender to angry and accusatory in a matter ofminutes, and I still wasn’t entirely sure what had brought on sucha strong reaction.

“I don’t see why we haveto rush into this. We need to be careful. We shouldn't do anythingthat could cause us to lose money.”

“I disagree. I lived inOrange County for over twenty years. I know about real estatethere. And I’m calling Brent with an offer.”

“Whatever,” she hissed,and spun around on her heels, storming out of the room, once againleaving me to wonder what the hell just happened. Damn, I was justtrying to buy the woman a summer home.

At that moment, part of mehated her. It was just for a moment, a burst of hatred that cameupon me as quickly as it left, but it was strong. I hated what shewas doing to me, making me feel desperate, powerless, andconstantly uncertain about what may come next. More than anything,I hated how far from perfect we were proving to be, despite workingso hard to make our new life everything I’d hoped.

I picked up the phone, dialed Brent’s number,and told him to make them an offer.

* * *

The following Thursday found us sittingquietly in my car, parked in front of the loan office where ourpaperwork for the house was waiting to be signed. The selleraccepted my offer, but Audrey had yet to accept my apologies.

While Audrey sat in icy silence, her eyesfirmly fixed on something outside her window, I sat anchored in myseat, nervously kneading the steering wheel with my hands as Isought to find the words to make everything better. Since thatscene over buying the house, Audrey had walked out of the room andspent every day since in any room I was not. She was in bed asleepbefore I had a chance to approach her away from the kids, and shewas out the door on Saturday morning without so much as agoodbye.

“I think you’re right,” Ibegan, my voice barely above a whisper. “I do rush into things. Irushed into loving you, I rushed into proposing to you, and Irushed into this house of ours.” I kept my voice even, not wantingto let my emotions get the best of me. Audrey continued to stareout the window, showing no signs of listening. “But I will notapologize for any of that since I've spent my life waiting.