“She is the M.V. Woodard!! We can’t lose her as a client!” Richard was nearly choking on his words. Arthur froze on the balcony as the whole picture suddenly clicked into place. M.W. Woodard was the reclusive genius who had single-handedly redefined modern sculpture and immersive architecture in the late 1980s before completely vanishing from the public eye.
“Her pieces sell at Sotheby’s for millions, and she hasn’t shown her face in thirty years,” Richard whispered in absolute, terrified awe. “If she has turned that entire home into a functional art piece, it’s worth a fortune. Arthur, do not screw this up!”
The call clicked off, leaving Arthur standing in the garden with a cold wave of anxiety washing over him. The irritation that had fueled his morning was entirely gone, replaced by the humbling realization that he had been aggressively pricing a priceless cultural relic as drywall and timber.