About me
It started with my own parents.
For years, I've been the person my parents and in-laws call. A new phone. A confusing form. A contractor's quote that didn't look right. A trip to arrange. A decision they wanted to talk through.
They're perfectly capable of living independently. But dozens of everyday things have become frustrating, time-consuming, or just hard to manage — and working out who to call for each one is a job in itself.
What they valued wasn't any single errand. It was having one capable person who knows them, whom they trust completely, and who makes sure things actually get handled.
I realized other families might want the same. So I'm offering it now to a small number of households — personally, not as a company with staff and scripts. When you call, you get me.
A little background
I studied at Brown, then earned my law degree at UC Berkeley, and began my career at Paul, Weiss in New York — a place that teaches you to read the fine print and ask the right questions.
For the last fourteen years I've been building and growing a financial technology company. Most days meant untangling something complicated: a process that didn't work, a problem no one owned, a decision with real stakes. I learned to figure things out, find the right people, and see things through.
That's exactly what I bring to the families I work with — just applied to the contract, the flights, the insurance claim, and the big decisions that matter most.
- Education
- Brown University · UC Berkeley School of Law
- Law
- Paul, Weiss, New York
- Business
- 14 years building a fintech company
How I work
Hand me something complicated — a contract, a benefits packet, two proposals that look identical, a system I've never seen — and I'll come back with the short version: what it actually says, what it means for you, and what I'd do about it.
I explain things plainly. If you can't tell what you're being asked to decide, that's my failure, not yours. Nobody should need a law degree to run their own life.
I notice the small things — the clause on page four, the line item that doesn't match, the date nobody followed up on. And I remember all of it: your doctors, your contractors, the warranty that expires in March, the conversation you had with your daughter last spring. You shouldn't have to explain your life twice.