CHAPTER FIVE
Palisade
One week into Easton's community service, and I almost believed things would be manageable. He showed up on time, did his work without complaint, and kept his head down. The animals liked him. The staff tolerated him. Manageable.
Then the news vans showed up.
I was in the middle of examining a nervous tabby cat who did not appreciate strangers when Monique knocked on the exam room door.
"Palisade, there are reporters outside. A lot of them."
My stomach dropped. "How many is a lot?"
“Four vans. Maybe a dozen people with cameras."
Cursing under my breath, I finished the exam as quickly as possible, gave the owner their instructions, and headed to the front window. Sure enough, the parking lot was filling with media personnel, and cameras pointed at the clinic entrance.
"What the hell?" I muttered.
Monique appeared at my elbow. "Easton's agent called this morning. Said they wanted to do a 'feel-good community story' about his rehabilitation. I told them we weren't interested, but apparently they showed up, anyway."
"Where's Easton?"
"Kennel area. He doesn't know yet."
I marched to the back, anger building with each step. Easton was hosing down one of the runs, completely oblivious to the circus forming outside.
"You didn’t know there would be reporters here?" I demanded.
His expression darkened. "I told my agent no. I specifically said…" He set down the hose. "I'll handle this."
"No." I held up a hand. "This is my clinic. I'll handle it."
I didn't wait for his reply. I walked straight out the front door, cameras already tracking my movements.
"Dr. Honors! Can you tell us about Easton Henley's community service?"
"Is it true he's working here as punishment for the horse trailer incident?"
"How do you feel about having a violent offender working with animals?"
I held up one hand, and they quieted.
"Easton Henley is fulfilling a court-ordered community service requirement at this clinic," I said, keeping my voice level and professional.
"He's working under my direct supervision.
Beyond that, I have nothing to say. This is a veterinary clinic, not a publicity stunt.
My patients and their owners deserve privacy and peace. I'm asking you all to leave."
"Dr. Honors, can we get a few photos?"
"If you don't leave, I'll call the police for trespassing. This is private property." I kept my tone firm. "Thank you for understanding."
I turned and walked back inside without waiting for their response, watching through the window as they reluctantly began packing up.
When I turned around, Easton stood in the hallway with Aimee and Monique.
"I'm sorry," he said immediately. "I didn't authorize this. I'll call my agent right now and—"
"Just finish your shift," I said tersely. "We'll deal with this later."
Tension hung in the air for the rest of the day. Clients peppered us with questions. Staff members murmured to each other with quick glances and lowered voices as Easton walked past.
By the time his shift ended at four o'clock, I was exhausted and furious in equal measure.
Before he left, Easton appeared in my office doorway, changed back into street clothes.
"Palisade, I really am…"
"I don't want to hear it right now, Easton. Just… go. We'll talk tomorrow."
He looked like he wanted to argue, but nodded instead. "Okay. Tomorrow."
After he left, I dropped my head into my hands. This was exactly what I'd been afraid of. Easton Henley brought chaos wherever he went, and now that chaos was seeping into my carefully controlled world.
Into Casey's world.
Easton
I sat in my car in the clinic parking lot for a solid ten minutes, watching the remaining reporters across the street, hands gripping the steering wheel hard enough to hurt.
I'd specifically told my agent no press. No photo ops. No feel-good redemption story bullshit. And he'd tipped them off anyway because it would be good for my image.
I didn't give a damn about my image. I cared about not making Palisade's life harder.
When she'd found me in the kennel, her eyes were like daggers, lips compressed into a thin line. Like she'd expected better from me, and I'd let her down.
I couldn't leave it like this.
I called my agent and chewed him out for a solid five minutes, making it crystal clear that if he pulled something like this again, he'd be looking for a new client. Then I sat there in the silence, trying to figure out what to do.
Dr. Reyes's voice echoed in my head from our last session: When you screw up, you apologize. Immediately. Sincerely. And then you do better.
I pulled up Holly's contact and sent a text: What's Palisade's address?
Her response came quickly: Why?
Need to apologize in person. Today was my fault.
A pause, then: Not your fault, but ok. She won't like you showing up unannounced, tho.
I know. Sending it anyway?
The address came through a moment later, followed by: Good luck. You'll need it.
Twenty minutes later, I pulled up to a two-story house with a wraparound porch. Completely different from my sterile downtown condo. Flower boxes in the windows, a basketball hoop in the driveway, a small herb garden by the front steps. Homey.
I grabbed the takeout I'd picked up on the way and headed to the door before I could second-guess myself.
I knocked, heard footsteps, and braced myself for Palisade's anger.
The door opened.
But it wasn't Palisade standing there.
It was a little girl, maybe six years old, with long brown hair in a ponytail and the bluest eyes I'd ever seen.
Exactly like mine.
She stared up at me, her mouth falling open.
"Oh my God," she whispered. "You're Easton Henley."
"Uh, yeah. Hi. Is your mom—"
"MOM!" the girl shrieked, never taking her eyes off me. "MOM, EASTON HENLEY IS AT OUR DOOR!"
She grabbed my free hand and physically yanked me inside with surprising strength for someone so small.
"You're really him. You're really Easton Henley. From the Shadow Wolves. Number seventeen. Center. Forty-two goals last season and…" She stopped, gasped, bouncing on her toes. And gave an ear-piercing scream, "This is the best day of my entire life!"
"Casey, what are you—" Palisade appeared from the kitchen, stopping dead when she saw me standing in her entryway, her daughter attached to my hand. "Easton? What are you doing here?"
"I came to apologize," I said, holding up the takeout bag. "For today. I know you said we'd talk tomorrow, but I couldn't leave it. I brought food?”
Palisade looked between Casey and me, clearly torn between throwing me out and not wanting to disappoint her daughter.
"Uncle Easton brought us dinner!" Casey announced, as if this was already decided. "Can he stay? Please? Please, please, please?"
"Uncle Easton?" I repeated.
"Aunt Holly's your sister, right? And she's my aunt, so that makes you my uncle. We watch your games all the time when she comes over." Casey explained with six-year-old logic. "Plus, you're basically famous, so that's even cooler!"
Palisade closed her eyes briefly, as if mentally counting to ten.
"Casey, let go of Easton's hand."
"But Mom!"
"Now, please."
Casey released me reluctantly, still staring at me like I'd descended from hockey heaven.
Palisade stepped closer, lowering her voice. "You shouldn't be here."
"I know. But I needed to apologize properly. Not at the clinic, not with staff around. Just let me say what I came to say, and then I'll leave if you want me to."
She studied my face, then sighed. "You can apologize. But you're not staying for dinner."
"Mom!" Casey looked devastated.
"Casey, go wash your hands. Now."
Casey trudged toward the bathroom, shooting me hopeful looks over her shoulder.
Once she was gone, Palisade crossed her arms. "You can't show up at my house, Easton."
"I know. I'm sorry. But I needed you to hear this.
What happened today wasn't supposed to go down.
I specifically told my agent no press, no publicity.
He went behind my back because he thought it would be good for my image.
I chewed him out for five minutes and told him if it happens again, he's fired. "
Her eyebrows rose. "You did?"
"I called him from the parking lot. His job was to keep the press away from the clinic." I set the food on the small table by the door. "I know that doesn't undo today, but I want you to know I'm taking this seriously. Your clinic, your privacy, Casey's privacy."
"Why?" The question came out softer than I expected. "Why does it matter to you?"
"Because you're Holly's best friend. You didn't have to give me a chance to work at the clinic, but you did. And because…" I trailed off, glancing toward the bathroom where Casey had disappeared. "Because dragging a kid into a media circus is the last thing I'd ever want to do."
Something changed in Palisade's expression. It wasn’t forgiveness exactly, but understanding.
"Okay," she said. "Apology accepted. But next time, call first."
"There's going to be a next time?"
A small smile tugged at her lips. "We'll see."
Casey reappeared, hands dripping wet because she'd clearly rushed. "So, can Uncle Easton stay for dinner?"
"Casey—"
"Please, Mom? He brought Chinese food and everything! And I promise I'll do all my homework after and clean my room!"
"You're already supposed to do those things," Palisade pointed out, but her face softened like she couldn’t resist her daughter’s request.
"Just one dinner," I said. "To make up for ruining your day. Then I'll get out of your hair."
Palisade looked at Casey's hopeful face, then at me, and sighed in defeat. "Alright, you both win.” She raised an eyebrow. “One dinner. But Casey, you still have homework."
"I'll do it right after! I promise!" Casey grabbed my hand again. "Come on, Uncle Easton! We need to set the table!"
She dragged me toward the kitchen, chattering at light speed about how she couldn't believe a real NHL player was in her house, and this was better than Christmas, and did I know she watched every single Shadow Wolves game?