A Phone Call for an Artist [attn: Maggie]
Magdalena Pogorelc-Smith (but hasn't she left the Smith behind in the dust by now? Divorces can take some time) gets a phonecall in the middle of the afternoon, just a little after a traditional lunch hour.

A message is left behind.

A man is speaking. His voice is professional but not brisk, with a tone that seems more companionable than staccato, more handshake than gesticulations.

"Hi, Ms. Pogorelc. My name is Arthur Cotton. I speak for Mallorie Knox at Simple Events and we're throwing a bit of a hush-hush 'do. We're hoping to book you for a performance. I can tell you you'll have a month to come up with something new or to rework an old piece. I can tell you the organization who has been so impressed with your work will be booking a castle to host it. It's an exciting opportunity for you, and I'd just love it if you made my life easier and called me back to discuss the deets. Number is ###-###-####, extension ###. Call any time after ten am. Look forward to hearing from you, Ms. Pogorelc."

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