"You're really going to try to turn this creepy old estate around?" Nicole said after she and Gloria parked in front of the namesake mansion. Her top chef had not been in the camp of purchasing Malanor Manor given its history. Its reputation as a money sink to the last three businesses that had purchased and failed to turn a profit had kept anyone from buying the cheap listing. That didn't also take into account the urban legends surrounding the disappearance of the original owners and infamy in the local ghost hunting community.
"This is an unparalleled opportunity to drag a worthy venue up out of the depths," Gloria said, not dissuaded in her choice of property purchase. "So it has these phony ghost stories surrounding it. Pah! I consider that air of mystique to make it a killer haunt for the night scene."
"I really wish you hadn't used that choice of words," Nicole replied.
"I'm sensing a popular night outing," Gloria continued, passing over the aged cobblestone drive towards the veranda. "Perhaps an exclusive supper club. Vacationers want to visit a place with storied history, that's all the rage these days. Imagine what bank we could make off of that old legend!"
"Imagine what bank it'll take to get this up and running," Nicole said, not used to being the voice of reason compared to Gloria. She winced as the creaky, worn boards of the steps cried out as Gloria stepped up to the door.
Malanor Manor was a textbook definition of a fixer upper. The four-story mansion was built by Maximillian Malanor, an small time yet nevertheless rich industrialist during the 1800s railroad boom that helped put the city of Trussel on the map. Set in the outskirts of the county, the lavish estate had been an impressive residence of post-Victorian architecture back when it was constructed. Maximillian had built the house as a wedding gift to his wife Marianne, intended to be a home for their family. Yet the Malanors had never had children. After a grand house warming party three weeks after the building was finished, Maximillian & Marianne faded out of public eye to never be seen again. The mystery of their disappearance was lost to history. Some say the Malanors were murdered, others said they fled the country under false identities. Fringe conspiracies suggested it an act of witchcraft, an ancient curse, or even alien abductions that led to the house being abandoned.
Looting and squatting occurred in the centuries since. Adventure capitalists of the past had tried to purchase the estate for either residential or commercial use, yet nobody lived there for long and previous businesses had failed to take hold. The last three ventures from companies that had acquired Malanor Manor; a failed bed & breakfast, museum, and headquarters of an organic plantation brought the manor back on the market for Gloria to make a steal of a purchase.
"Well come on, Nicole!" Gloria put her hands on her hips in a huff. "I didn't hire you to hang back when a new opportunity becomes available to us!"
Nicole wasn't afraid of the supposed hauntings about the Manor but she had a real distrust of the dilapidated porch given she had a good fifty or so pounds on her boss. Steeling her nerves, she took tepid steps towards the door willing her fat legs to move.
Creak!
Creak!
Creak, CREAK, CRUNCH!
"Pleasebeonsolidground, please-be-on-solid-ground," Nicole cried as she barely leapt over the threshold, feeling that the last section of the veranda was going to give out from under her. Trying to regain her composure, the flabby head chef coughed from the dust riled up by hers and Gloria's entry. The tarnished foyer and grand staircase to the second level had seen better days. The smell of rot and stale air permitted the manor. With a parlor and greenhouse out of the side doorways from the foyer, abandoned materials from the last failed businesses could be seen in those rooms. Bagged furniture, the covers torn to shreds, and the derelict remains of old computer equipment still remained, modern touches that had failed to take off.
"Think of the view you could have from the upper floor," Gloria said.
"I am NOT climbing any more stairs today," Nicole would physically put her foot down for emphasis but she was still fearful of falling through the floor.
"What's got you so squirrelly, Nicole?" Gloria asked, her overflowing bravado blind to the drawbacks that could come from refurbishing a dilapidated manor, let alone the rumors of it being haunted.
"I'm just saying this whole venture sounds questionable. Nobody's been ever to turn over Malanor Manor for a profit."
"That's because the world hasn't seen what Gloria Vandergast is going to do with this property!" Gloria quipped, having that mad spark of an entrepreneurial innovation that had gotten her to this point in her career. "You'll be singing another tune, Nicole, once you see the space for the kitchen. The photos of the available space made it very intriguing to purchase."
"You do remember I'm pitch deaf, right?" Nicole sourly retorted. She got her kicks from her cringeworthy attempts at karaoke nights that would turn any audience the wrong way. But Nicole had no song in her heart for this crazed venture, hoping that the kitchen was on ground level. She drew the line at crossing any other sketchy floorboards.
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