It was only 2:30 and Hugo was already reaching the end of his patience. It felt like he was part of some endless reality show. Bailey seemed to be able to keep everything straight but after ten different people had shown up with ten Raku pottery plant pots, he was starting to lose focus.

“They all look great,” he said. “How are you planning to pick a winner?”

She’d just smiled at him. “There are no losers here,” she said. “Anyone who doesn’t make the final cut will get a chance to pitch again in the fall, before we open the contest back up again.”

“Again?” he said. “Are you kidding me?”

“Embrace the change Hugo.”

“We’re crowd-sourcing our inventory?”

“Exactly,&rdq...

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