hapter 78
The medical reports for the three dogs were out. They were strong and healthy, with great appetites.
Ryan and Cassandra left the clinic after the dogs had devoured an entire bowl of puppy kibble meant for a tiny Pomeranian.
One of the staff gave an awkward smile. “Mr. Scott, could we settle the charge for the dog food?”
Just then, Ryan’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen and frowned before pointing at Cassandra. “I have to take this. Talk to her.”
Cassandra was crouched beside a cage, gently touching the little paw of a Westie inside. It looked even smaller than Snowball and was sick and curled up in the corner, too weak to move. She felt a tug of sympathy for it.
“Miss, could you please come to settle the bill?” a staff member called out to her.
She looked around and confirmed that the staff member was talking to her. “We already paid, didn’t we?”
The staff member smiled. “Yes, the checkup has been paid. But the three dogs just ate a whole bowl of puppy food. We’ll need to charge you for that, too.”
Instinctively, Cassandra turned to look for Ryan, but the waiting area was empty. He had vanished. She asked, “Where’s the guy who came in with me?”
“Oh, you mean Mr. Scott? He got a call and said he had to step out. He asked us to give the bill to you.”
Cassandra was speechless. “I–fine. How much is it?”
“3,800 dollars.”
11
“…You might want to wait for him to come back.”
Ryan returned holding his phone and glanced her way. The staff quickly approached. “Mr. Scott, she said she’d wait for you.”
He gave a slight smirk. “Wait for what?”
“To pay,” Cassandra said, clearly annoyed. “What kind of dog food costs 10 dollars? That’s more than a decent meal for a person.”
The staff explained, “It’s imported from Southreach and contains premium beef, fish oil, and goat milk powder. It’s great for digestion and coat health…”
Ryan paid without another word. Cassandra followed him, leading the dogs out.
Chapy
Once they were settled back in the car, Cassandra buckled her seatbelt and muttered, “That imported dog food is just marketing. You can make better meals at home for a fraction of the
cost,”
“You know how to cook for dogs?”
“Yes. Fluffy has a sensitive stomach. I used to cook for him all the time.”
Ryan tapped the steering wheel thoughtfully. “The vet said our chubby boys are fine for now, but they’re a little overweight and might develop high cholesterol. Would home–cooked meals help?”
“Definitely.” She nodded. “Kibble’s dry and boring. Fresh food tastes better, and you can portion it out.”
“Alright, then,” he said. “You’re still sharing a room with Daisy, right?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Daisy’s about to start filming. Hair and makeup artists will be coming and going. It’ll be inconvenient for you, so I’ll book another hotel room for you. I won’t charge you. Just cook for the dogs each day to cover the rent.”
Cassandra considered the idea. Daisy had already started prepping for her role, with costume designers stopping by for fittings and the director and screenwriter occasionally dropping in for script discussions. While Daisy hadn’t said anything, Cassandra felt like her presence was getting in the way.
She had thought about moving out, but rent in Stokelle was ridiculous. Affordable places were too far from everything. It had been weighing on her for days.
Ryan’s offer was a timely solution.
But could she really trade dog meals for a room at Westwood Hotel?
“It’s probably not enough,” Ryan said casually. “But you’re cooking anyway, right? Just make people food too. I’m tired of the restaurant menus. It’s time for a change.”
He cast her a sideways glance.
Cassandra narrowed her eyes to study him.
“Just say it.”
“Mr. Scott, this is one hell of a chess game you’re playing,” Cassandra said.
