Antique Mirror
A short
By
D. F. Jones
Copyright 2015 D.F. Jones, all rights reserved.
Notes:
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, including, but not limited to, any electronic forms, and information or storage systems without the explicit written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is completely coincidental.
Dedication
To my mother, Earlene
Rockvale, Tennessee 2015
“Maybe this wasn't a great deal, after all,” Victoria said, talking to herself as she navigated her silver Jeep down the narrow driveway that was in need of serious attention. The driveway seemed to go on forever until the property finally opened up to a meadow; there it was—the cozy cabin in the woods.
Victoria sucked in a deep breath as she looked around the small farm. Wild daisies were scattered throughout the property and a white picket fence enclosed the small yard. A trellis of roses climbed both rock fireplaces on either end of the cabin. There was a covered front porch with stained glass windows over the door. Tori noticed a small barn with a red, tin roof, and a split-rail fence that ran along the perimeter of the property.
Oh, this was too good to be true. Victoria stepped out of her Jeep and put on her professional smile; it was show time.
At twenty-eight, Victoria Frost was a successful artist in Nashville with her naturalist representations of landscapes and abstract still lifes. Tori’s skillful painting technique created an illusion of texture with bold colors. She had sold nearly all of her big pieces at the Heart and Soul Gala for Vanderbilt Children’s Hospital.
Many local art dealers around the Nashville area had indicated to Max Dupres, Tori’s agent, that they would be willing to host fundraisers and galas if she had her very own studio and gallery. An art barn would be ideal to rent out for a variety of events while displaying her art for sale.
Tori had been dreaming of a place like this to work, hike and be at one with nature. Hell, she might even buy a dog.
The Realtor nearly crushed Tori’s fingers with his handshake. “Victoria Frost, I’m Andy Crenshaw, Crenshaw Realty. So glad you found it. There was another couple who just left here, and they loved the place.”
Oh, please, not that old sales ploy. “My friends call me Tori, and if someone else is interested, I’ll go. There’s another property in Leaper’s Fork I’m looking at this afternoon.” Tori turned to leave. Her inner diva was doing a fist pump.
Andy stepped around in front of her and hastily replied, “Ah, now Tori, surely you’ll take a look at the property while you’re here. The couple was interested, but I don't think they’ll qualify for the loan.”
Tori turned and entered the cabin. She stood in the foyer for a few minutes to get a feel for the place. There was a gorgeous antique chandelier hanging overhead and two huge rooms flanked either side of the foyer. Each room had a rock fireplace and oak mantle. The corners of the mantles had been carved with an ornate design of vines and small flowers.
A beautiful antique mirror with a dark walnut frame hung over the fireplace in the room to the right, and she could picture her bedroom in there. Tori mentally placed her bed in the corner and a chaise next to the fireplace. There was a double window that offered a view to the front of the property and a window on
Similar Books
