“The best time to reach me is early in the morning. I start work about noon,” she said.
“She’s a prostitute!” tsk, tsked the female agents who declined to work with Sylvia. She was my lender friend’s roommate in college.
Laura beseeched me, “Will you help her buy a house?”
“Money is money. Many people have prostituted themselves for dollars, though not quite so professionally. Who am I to judge how she earns hers? She’s probably saved marriages.” I replied.
“I resemble Michelle Pheiffer,” Sylvia coyly told the johns that called for her services. She was pretty, fit, fifty with freckles. She looked thirty. Plastic surgery is routine in her industry.
We discussed her ideal house. She often worked at home. “It should be easy access to the freeway, good for commuters, no Brady Bunch families, or snoopy neighbors.”
There was a house for sale across the street from the one she rented. The neighborhood was satisfactorily sleazy. “How about that one?” I asked.
“Perfect,” she said and we wrote up an offer.
The escrow was like her skin, smooth and wrinkle free. “I need a ten thousand dollar deposit.” I told her.
“Give me a week,” she said.
Laura helped her with financing. Exotic dancer was her official job description. She didn’t have much in the way of income documentation. It turns out, she was the highest paid hooker in the Silicon Valley area; Santa Cruz being the valley’s bedroom community…
She made a lot more money than Laura or I did. While Sylvia worked, we waited for inspectors and appraisers outside the house she was buying. Johns cruised by slowly, looking for her address. They gawked. We got a few long stares and one thumbs up. One particularly handsome man in a new burgundy Jaguar had Laura and me seriously considering new careers.
Sylvia came up with ten per cent of the purchase price in cash; got a loan for eighty percent. The seller was carrying back ten percent as a second on the property. Sylvia would make payments to him for a number of years until this loan was paid off. She offered to do a trade. Sub prime loans were never this creative.
Inspections were done. The house was in descent shape. The purchase loan was secured. At the sign off Sylvia whispered, “Thank you for being so respectful.”
“Likewise,” I replied. We closed escrow; easy money.