March. You walk a building off Harrison with the owner.
Somewhere between the loading dock and the roof he says he's been thinking about getting out, but not until the refi clears. You file it where brokers file everything: in your head, next to four hundred other things.
August. The refi clears.
Nothing happens, because nothing reminded you. You are in three other deals and that conversation is five months old.
October. It lists with someone else.
You see the sign on the way to a showing. You knew first, by seven months, and that was worth nothing at all.