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    “ Locally? ” Hugo repeated, though he knew exactly what she was thinking.
    “ Brands like Zangari, ” Bailey said. “ They make their shoes right here in Chicago. ”
    “ They make Vienna sausages here too, but that doesn ’ t mean I ’ m going to feature them in the food hall. ”
    Bailey gave him a narrow look. “ You never had pigs in a blanket did you? ”
    “ God no, ” he said.
    “ Snob, ” Bailey said.
    “ White trash, ” he shot back.
    “ Like someone who ate bangers and mash and spotted dick can talk, ” she said.
    “ You got me there, ” Hugo said, thinking of the times when his mother was feeling nostalgic for her London childhood and whipped up snacks like baked beans on toast and bacon sandwiches. “ But there was also sticky toffee pudding, ” he said.
    “ Yum, ” Bailey said. She had a southerner ’ s sweet tooth and a taste for the comfort food of her own childhood, treats like bread pudding, chocolate pecan pie, and coconut cake. She loved sticky toffee pudding.
    “ I want to launch a competition, ” she said. “ Chicago wide. To bring hometown luxury home. Open to anyone in the city who makes specialty items to wear or consume. ”
    Hugo looked pained. “ You know we ’ re going to get stuff from every Etsy crafter, home baker, and hobbyist knitter in Chicago, ” he said.
    “ I know. It ’ ll be great! ”
    Hugo looked unconvinced, so Bailey added, “ Maybe we ’ ll find the next Mrs. Field ’ s cookies. Maybe we ’ ll discover the next David Yurman or Paloma Picasso. ” She threaded her arm through his elbow. In her boots, she was nearly as tall as he was. “ It ’ ll be great publicity. ”
    Her eyes widened as an idea suddenly struck her. “ We ’ ll put your father in charge of judging. John Morgan will love it. ”
    “ He ’ ll say he ’ s too busy, ” Hugo predicted. “ He ’ ll say he was thinking of taking up landscape painting or cycling. ”
    “ I ’ d like to see that, ” Bailey said, picturing the aristocratic John Morgan Prince in neon-colored biking gear.
    Hugo sighed, knowing that if Bailey was intent on executing her idea he might as well agree to it and avoid the humiliation of having her wear him down eventually.
    “ When would you announce the competition? ”
    “ First of the year. ”
    “ You mean … next week? How long have you been working on this idea? ”
    “ Little while, ” she said with a smile. “ It ’ ll run one month. Entries only in person, no proxies. We ’ ll set up a kiosk at the store to register the entries and do rolling evaluations so on February first we can announce the finalists. That way we can put the new products in the goodie bags for the Bleeding Heart Ball. ”
    Hugo didn ’ t even want to think about the Bleeding Heart Ball, Bailey ’ s in-your-face name for the annual Valentine ’ s Night fete she ’ d created as part of her year-long calendar of events sponsored by Prince ’ s. Last year he ’ d escorted a woman he ’ d been dating for four months and she had gotten the impression the invitation was a prelude to a proposal. The evening had not ended well.
    “ You ’ re scowling, ” Bailey said as she saw his expression darkening. “ Don ’ t you like the idea? ”
    It ’ s going to play hell with the traffic flow on the floor. ”
    ‘ I ’ ve already got a flow-chart prepared. ”
    Of course you do , he thought.
    “ That ’ s a lot of extra people coming into the store. Security is not going to be happy. ”
    “ Did you know that Jerry Izquierdo ’ s daughter is at RISD, studying graphic design? ”
    “ No, ” Hugo said, wondering what his head of security ’ s daughter had to do with anything and also wondering how it was that Bailey even knew that Jerry had a daughter.
    “ She designed the logo we ’ re using for the competition. Which is called, by the way, ‘ the Chicago Cinderella Competition ’ . ”
    “ Catchy. But that ’ s still a lot of people in the store