Rhonda’s uncle was an art dealer in New York.
She knew he was highly regarded and only sold to wealthy collectors.
He employed selectivity regarding his patrons: truly great modern artists made available to billionaires. However, the work had been intense, and he contemplated retirement.
“Just yesterday,” he confided, “I sold a Basquiat, a Mondrian, and a Pollack.”
Rhonda’s eyes widened. “How do you do it?”
“My transactions are always confidential as my clients wish to guard their privacy.”
“Cash only deals,” he added.
“Why, in the last month alone, of the fifty works of art featured, I sold sixty-five.”
She knew he was highly regarded and only sold to wealthy collectors.
He employed selectivity regarding his patrons: truly great modern artists made available to billionaires. However, the work had been intense, and he contemplated retirement.
“Just yesterday,” he confided, “I sold a Basquiat, a Mondrian, and a Pollack.”
Rhonda’s eyes widened. “How do you do it?”
“My transactions are always confidential as my clients wish to guard their privacy.”
“Cash only deals,” he added.
“Why, in the last month alone, of the fifty works of art featured, I sold sixty-five.”
