The Year-Long Design Battle

It Started With One Word

In March 2023, I emailed a designer named Francisco Godinez about the duplex. His first real question cut straight to it:

"I will need to know if you want to maximize the lot with ADU or how many you want to put on???"

My reply was one word:

"Maximize."

That word set the course for the next three years.

Hiring a Drafter

Francisco ran a company called Specialties Design Drafting Services. The deal was simple. I'd pay a retainer up front. He'd deliver a first draft in 2-3 weeks. Then we'd hand it off to a structural engineer.

Before I signed, my father -- a designer himself -- reviewed the contract and pushed back on the deposit:

"Why $4000 deposit / Should be $2,000 / Or 10%. Does city req. Architecture stamp??"

Francisco met us in the middle: he cut the retainer from $4,000 to $2,000 and spread the difference across the later payments. We signed on April 13, 2023. In hindsight, my dad's other question -- does the city require an architecture stamp? -- was the one that mattered most.

Things Looked Good at First

The first few months went well:

April 2023 -- We signed the contract and ordered building records from the county
May 2023 -- He showed me two layout options
May-June 2023 -- I even sent a friend to Francisco for another project. That's how much I trusted him.
July 2023 -- I paid another $4,500 for plans "ready for structural calculations"

Of the two May layouts, I preferred Proposal A, and told him exactly why:

"I really like proposal A, particularly how the wet walls are strategically placed on top of both the top and bottom units for the bathrooms. Additionally, I appreciate the inclusion of a small private yard for each of the tenants."

The designs looked clean. I told people we'd submit plans to the city by August.

Then Things Slowed Down

July-August 2023: Francisco and the structural engineer both went on vacation. Francisco said the plans were "almost ready" and would be done "this week." I scheduled a podcast appearance for August 22 to talk about the project. That's how confident I still was.

September 2023: We finally submitted plans to the city. I paid the review fees. I asked Francisco to change the plans from gas to all-electric. He said he would.

November 2023: The city sent back comments. One was about setbacks -- the rules for how far your building must be from the property line. This is where everything fell apart.

The Setback Problem

The city said our building was too close to a utility easement. An easement is a strip of land the power company owns the right to use. Our buildings needed to move 4 feet. That sounds small. It wasn't. It meant the entire layout had to be redesigned.

Francisco said he was "working on it." Weeks passed with no progress.

No More Responses

January-February 2024: I called and texted Francisco over and over. No response. When he finally replied, he said the utility easement was a bigger problem than expected.

March 2024: After weeks of silence, I sent a document called "Final Outreach" and added my attorney to the email. This was 11 months into a contract that should have taken 5-7 weeks.

He Admitted It

On April 6, 2024, Francisco sent the email that confirmed my fear:

"just to give you a heads up that pretty much we start from scratch since we have to move the building four feet for the utility easement so bear with me on Monday I will put all my attention to your project."

Move the building four feet. Start from scratch. A year in.

Nine days later, on April 15, 2024, the structural engineer -- Arash Farboudmanesh at Solid Forms Engineering -- made it official. His note, forwarded to me, read:

"The building did get smaller but I can't save anything that I did originally, so pretty much it's a new design. Here is the revision authorization for the revised plans."

A revision authorization. In other words: they wanted me to pay again, for a redesign caused by a mistake made before I ever saw a plan.

Getting Legal Advice

I reached out to attorney David Sanford at Newport Law Group. I sent him everything -- the contract, the timeline, and exhibits showing the missed responses, the easement issue, and the admission that the work couldn't be salvaged.

David zeroed in on one distinction that changed how I saw the whole thing: Francisco was a designer and draftsman, not a licensed architect. He asked whether the design had ever been approved for the ADUs. It hadn't. After a year and roughly $11,000 in payments, I had nothing approved and nothing usable.

So I filed in small claims court. I brought the contract, the timeline, and the emails -- including the "start from scratch" message and the engineer's admission that nothing could be salvaged. The judge ruled in my favor, and the defendant paid the full amount.

Getting the money back mattered, but it wasn't really the point. The point was the year. No court gives that back. I took the win, closed the chapter, and went looking for a real architect.

The Lesson

I walked away from Francisco. I started looking for a real architect. That search led me to Sean Canning at 1070 Architecture.

The lesson was expensive but clear: don't hire a drafter when you need an architect. A drafter draws what you tell them. An architect understands setbacks, easements, zoning, and city rules before they draw the first line. I eventually clawed back the $11,000 in court -- but not the year. The $90,000 I'd spend with 1070 was worth every penny compared to the twelve months I lost.