Every detail, considered.

I run my real estate business the way the best restaurants run a dining room. You're greeted by name. Nothing is rushed. And the details you'd never think to ask about are already handled.

How I got here.

I learned hospitality in my dad's restaurant. In 2001, I went to work for him in Louisville, Kentucky — and that's where I figured out that a restaurant lives or dies on how people feel when they walk through the door.

What followed was more than twenty years in kitchens. I worked my way from the line to kitchen manager at The Cheesecake Factory and helped open its location at The Greene in Dayton. I ran the kitchen as executive chef for Marathon Petroleum's offices in Findlay. Then, back in Columbus, I spent a decade at Cooper's Hawk Winery & Restaurants — as executive chef, then culinary director overseeing ten restaurants across Ohio, Michigan, Chicago, and Naples, Florida, and finally as director of operations.

Kitchens taught me that great hospitality isn't a mood. It's a discipline. You prep before service. You check every plate before it leaves the pass. You take care of every guest, every night.

The turning point came on a vacation in Florida. I was there, but I wasn't — my head was back at the restaurants, worrying about how they were performing. My wife, Taylor, saw it before I did. She told me I hadn't been present in a long time. Then she challenged me to make a change, and promised she'd support me, because she wanted me to be happy.

So I called my best friend, Nathan, who'd been in real estate for nearly a decade. In 2023, I left Cooper's Hawk, joined his team, and brought twenty years of hospitality with me.

One closing will always stay with me. A couple buying their first home hit a snag no one saw coming: a "pay later" charge for a dinner out showed up as new debt and nearly cost them their loan. It was stressful, and the whole deal almost fell apart. We worked the problem until we found a way through, and got it done. When they finally walked into their own place, they were in tears. That's the moment I do this for.

That's why I run my business like a host — not a salesman.

Fast is slow,
and slow is fast.

The best kitchens don't rush the service. They prepare so well that the night feels effortless. That's how I approach every move — patient preparation, so the big moments go right.

Great hospitality lives in the small things nobody asks for. Here's where most agents cut corners — and where I don't.

I don't just sell Columbus. I live it.

Every great kitchen knows its farmers. I know the coffee shops, the dining rooms, and the stages — that's how I know these neighborhoods beyond the listing photos.

Don't take my word for it.

Pull up a chair.

Moving next month, next year, or just curious what your place is worth? Coffee's on me.