The Moment You’ve Been Waiting For
The Moment You've Been Waiting For
Esme struggled to keep her eyes on the displays.
Phail Central was a bright, fun store with everything from hilarious souvenirs to world-class artwork.
Some of it could have been displayed in any of the fancy locations she’d visited while modeling, but even the gorgeous paintings of Vermont in autumn struggled to keep her attention.
The man was stunning. Long, lean limbs did nothing to disguise the strength and muscles. From the way he moved, she’d bet the man’s reaction times were stellar.
Her agent, Claudia, would have drooled over his potential. The man would bring a brooding cowboy to life on camera. He wasn’t wearing a Stetson or cowboy boots, but he could pull off the look effortlessly.
Leaning against a fence at sunrise, checking on his animals or his land, and riding a horse against the backdrop of an incoming storm. Baling hay, preferably shirtless.
Rolling her lips together to keep from laughing at herself aloud, Esme forced her attention back to the art. Paintings, sketches, photographs. If she owned a home, she’d snatch up a dozen.
That made her heart ache. She hadn’t had a home, not really, since leaving Giblet behind. Sure, she’d bought and sold a couple of houses. But those hadn’t been homes, simply investments that she’d lived in for a few days at a time.
Now, she lived out of her duffel bags. Nothing new after her career, but tiring.
Without a home base, she was free to do whatever she wanted. She had, she was, but at some point, she wanted more. A home. Someone to share it with. Someone who saw Esme herself.
Her fingers trailed over her scar, reminding her that most people only saw or cared about the outside package.
She wanted more than that. Thanks to Nans, she knew that elusive more was out there. Attainable. She just had to keep searching.
Or maybe slow down long enough to let it find her.
A pretty woman with bright eyes that would work well on screen approached Esme with a smile. “Welcome to Phail.”
The phrase had Esme smiling. “Thanks.”
“I’m Piper. My husband, Troy, and I run Phail Central and Phail General.”
She shook the woman’s hand. “I’m Esme. I’m doing some social media posts celebrating small towns. When I saw your town’s name on a map, I knew I had to check it out.”
Piper brightened and clapped her hands. “That’s fantastic. You’re welcome to video anything here. The artisans’ names are on the plaques near their merchandise. With so many talented locals, it would be wonderful to showcase them.”
Interesting. Piper’s first thought was for the artisans, not herself. That was something Esme hadn’t experienced a lot while she’d been working. “My Nans would have liked you.”
Oops, she shouldn’t have said that aloud. But instead of acting as if Esme was nuts, Piper’s smile widened further. “Thank you. That sounds like a huge compliment. Your voice tells me your Nans was pretty special.”
Esme’s eyes misted with tears. Years of being on camera had her instantly controlling her reaction, but her voice was thick when she spoke. “She was the best.”
Piper reached out and squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry for your loss. I’m guessing your Nans was a small-town girl?”
Esme nodded. “She lived her whole life in a town named Giblet out in California.”
Piper laughed. “Now I know why our town’s name appealed to you.”
Esme noticed her sexy cowboy move with another man to the front of the store. His rear view was as good as the front.
And she was thinking like the people who’d looked at her and saw dollar signs, not a person. She was better than that.
Hoping to redeem herself, Esme surveyed the store. “Do you mind if I shoot a couple of videos while you don’t have another customer?”
Piper nodded and waved her hand around the space. “Feel free. Tell me if I’m in the way.”
And then she moved to give Esme some privacy and room to shoot her videos.
Deciding to start with the souvenirs showcasing the town’s name, Esme turned her camera to the merchandise.
“Hi, everyone. Esme here. As you know from the last video, a town named Phail was impossible to resist. I’m currently visiting Phail Central, the town’s tourism hub.”
She grinned as she spoke and knew the lure she already felt to the town would come through.
“The townsfolk take the name of Phail seriously in a hilarious way. I’ll showcase some of the businesses in other videos.
For now, let’s check out the souvenirs featuring Phil Fox and Fancy Firefly, the town mascots. ”
She zoomed in on a row of mugs and read some slogans, then zeroed in on the T-shirts and did the same.
She zoomed back out and took in the entire display.
“I’ve barely arrived in town, but I know there’s so much more to check out that I’ll be here for a while.
The town slogan is Come to Phail to Succeed, and they’ve succeeded in snagging my interest. Tell me which mug or T-shirt is your favorite in the comments below.
Take care of yourselves and each other. See you next time. ”
Esme shut off the video and checked to ensure she wasn’t bothering anyone, before she turned to the wall behind her and started another video.
“Hi, everyone. This is Esme. I’m in Phail Central, Phail Vermont’s tourism hub. Even saying the name makes me smile. This town is a great place to smile, and we know smiling makes everything better.”
She slowly panned over the wall, showcasing the artwork and plaques that gave details about the artisans.
“As you can see, a small town doesn’t mean a lack of art.
These pieces are incredible, and many of them showcase Vermont in all its beauty.
I can’t wait to join the other leaf peepers in checking it out for myself.
These paintings have me feeling like I could live in them forever.
Which piece or artist is your favorite? Comment below to let me know, although choosing favorites from this selection might be a challenge.
Until next time, take care of yourselves and everyone else. ”
After she turned it off, Piper approached. “Those are such fun videos. Short and interesting, while giving a shoutout to the creators. Thank you. Can I give you our town’s social media handles so you can tag us when you post them?”
“I’d love that. I usually post a couple of weeks after I shoot the videos, but I’ll definitely tag you.”
Piper’s eyebrows shot up, but she didn’t question the delay.
Many people posted live, but others delayed posting to edit and refine the videos. Esme didn’t bother with that. She preferred to be as natural as possible. And if she hated the video, she deleted it.
That was rare. Most of her videos were of the towns themselves or the landscapes around them. Stuff that would entice others to the towns and help with tourism dollars. Nothing serious or deep that required editing.
But something about Phail had her wanting to dig deeper, to know more.
“I heard there’s an apple farm with an inn nearby. Any chance you know the phone number or the website? I want to make a reservation.”
Piper grinned. “You’ll love the No Phailed Apples Inn. The rooms are unique and the place has a strong small-town flavor. Plus, the food is incredible. If you’re not careful, you might never want to leave.”
Esme suspected her new friend might be right.
Wyatt grinned as he entered the No Fail Diner. Instead of the typical black, red, and white decor, the booths and stools were covered in blue-and-green plaid. A huge Phail family crest filled the wall over the booths.
Instead of Scottish fare that would match the plaid, the diner smelled like the very best Mexican restaurants.
Being from San Antonio, Wyatt had enjoyed his fair share of top-shelf Mexican food.
The scents wafting through the open window to the kitchen told him the diner would fit right in with them.
Phail was a weird place, but he wouldn’t be complaining.
He’d worried Vermont’s cuisine wouldn’t stack up against what he’d left behind.
Seth Walters, chef at the No Phailed Apples Inn on the farm, had proven that theory wrong in a hurry.
Now Wyatt could add a favorite place for his Mexican addiction.
Perfect.
A woman who looked like a pretty version of Troy smiled at him. “Welcome to the No Fail Diner. I’m Ginny Phail. Have a seat anywhere you like.”
Heads swiveled toward him as the woman’s words alerted the locals to the presence of a newcomer.
Grinning at the room in general, he took a seat at the counter. “I’m Wyatt.”
Her smile widened. “Wyatt Foisy? From the apple farm?”
He nodded and shook her hand. “I’ve got the compost buckets to exchange, but not before I taste some of whatever has me drooling.”
The cook in the back sent him a salute while Ginny laughed. “Manuel can fix up a sampler platter if you like.”
Wyatt nodded. “A big one.”
Manuel grinned and nodded.
Ginny poured him coffee. “How do you like living at the farm so far?”
He sipped, relieved to discover good, strong coffee. In diners, you never knew. “It’s good. A change from Texas, but I’m adjusting.”
“And not melting.”
“That’s a bonus.”
The door opened behind him, and the feminine gasp of delight had him turning. Okay, his military training had him turning. It was always good to know who was approaching from behind.
Legs stopped in the entry to the diner, her gaze casting around the space, her smile growing as she took it all in.
His system reacted. What the hell was it about this woman that had his body salivating? He knew pretty faces didn’t always match the inside.
He took another sip of coffee as Ginny went through her welcome spiel with Legs.
Legs moved to shake Ginny’s hand. “I’m Esme, and I adore your diner. The sights, the scents, the atmosphere. It’s fabulous.”
Esme. Her name was Esme, and it suited her. Unique and interesting. Genn would have said it was a good name for a model. She’d wanted to be a famous first-name-is-all-you-need model. And he needed to stop thinking about Genn and comparing her to this woman.