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In this era, no country had pet cafés yet—much less the idea of dining with a tiger at the table. After all, no one could help worrying that while you were eating, the tiger might be waiting to eat you.
Whether she scratched under his chin or rubbed the tiger's head, every motion made Katy so blissfully comfortable that his eyes narrowed into slits, accompanied by strange rumbling purrs.
That massive tiger head crept closer and closer, practically trying to burrow into Charlize's arms.
Watching Katy's expression and behavior, Henry nearly cursed aloud. This is one horny bastard of a tiger.
Who did he learn this from, huh? Being petted by a beauty and he's enjoying it this much?
Annoyed, Henry nudged Katy's hind leg with his foot and let out a tiger-like roar.
: Get lost. Don't disturb us while we're eating.
Katy glanced back at him and bared his teeth with a roar of his own.
: Eat your food!
Then he swaggered away with the rolling gait of a mountain king, leaving the table where there was nothing he could eat.
Charlize felt a twinge of regret—but then she saw Katy leap onto the steel climbing frames, springing from platform to platform before settling sideways on the highest perch to rest. That sight alone left her so astonished she couldn't find words.
"Eat up," Henry said, trying to pull Charlize's attention back. "Once the food gets cold, it won't taste good anymore."
And he wasn't wrong—braised fish was definitely not a dish meant to be eaten cold.
It was the same dinner as before, yet Charlize was now clearly distracted.
"Are tigers really that agile?" she asked, still thinking about Katy.
Henry sighed and explained, "Tigers aren't like lions. They're both big cats, but tigers mainly live in forests. Climbing trees is nothing to them—unless the branches are too thin to support their weight."
"So… that's why you built all these platforms?"
"Just to give him more room to move around. Otherwise the place is too small, and I can't exactly let Katy go outside. If he just eats and never moves, he'd turn into a pig sooner or later."
"How did you even end up raising a tiger?" Charlize asked curiously. "You couldn't have bought him at a pet shop."
"This is a tabby cat, not a tiger," Henry said shamelessly, lying straight through his teeth. Still, he gave it some thought before continuing.
"A friend of mine once caught a tabby cat right after it was weaned, on commission for someone else.
"But then the client didn't want to keep him anymore. My friend panicked and had no idea what to do with the poor thing. So I took him in—better than dumping him on the street as a stray."
Henry made it sound casual, and in essence it really was—just missing a few minor background details.
For instance, it happened at the Los Angeles Continental Hotel, and that "friend" was the hotel manager, Mooney Fisher.
The client hadn't stopped wanting the tiger—he'd died. It was the inheritors who didn't want him, which was how Katy ended up with Henry.
By all logic, hearing something like this should prompt a hundred thousand questions—but Charlize suddenly veered the conversation back to herself.
"Since you were willing to take in a 'tabby cat' that someone else abandoned," she said, deliberately making air quotes,
"then what do you plan to do with me?"
The sudden shift in topic left Henry momentarily speechless.
Charlize pressed on. "You took it upon yourself to terminate my contract with John without really asking for my opinion. You must've had some plan in mind, right? Or were you just trying to tell me that I'm not cut out for Hollywood, and that I should pack up and go back to South Africa?"
Henry put down his chopsticks and took a sip of ice water. Charlize did the same—but the moment she drank it, her eyes lit up.
"What is this? It's so good—sweet, even. Is this really water?"
…Miss, do you realize you've gone off-topic again?
Henry had no choice but to explain first. "It's just tap water filtered through a purifier I made myself, then chilled in the fridge. Normally, odd tastes in water come from things like chlorine used for disinfection, pesticides and herbicides entering the water cycle,
"or heavy metals already present in the water—or picked up as it flows through pipes. Those things don't just affect taste. Long-term consumption causes them to accumulate in the body and do harm.
"This uses German water purification technology—it preserves minerals and beneficial ions. It tastes much better than simply boiling water or producing pure water with machines."
As an aside, completely pure water—H₂O without anything else—isn't actually what the human body needs. That's why Henry had never bothered making lab-grade distilled water.
Compared to commercial German brands that needed filter replacements every few weeks, Henry's homemade purifier didn't cost much, but it did require frequent cleaning to maintain its effectiveness.
"It really is delicious," Charlize said, pouring herself another glass. Only then did she remember the real topic at hand. She widened her eyes and waited expectantly for Henry to continue.
Seeing her scatterbrained expression, Henry felt both exasperated and amused. Still, he laid out his thoughts.
"I need to be clear about one thing. If you still want to stay in Hollywood, there's a good chance you'll run into situations like today again.
"So going back home is an option. But if you want to stay, instead of relying on someone else to protect you, you need to learn how to protect yourself.
"Today, I just happened to be home to hear the answering machine. Then I got lucky and managed to find you. If you hadn't even had a chance to make that call—if no one knew where you were—then no one but yourself could've saved you.
"And a lot of the time, people don't use outright violence. They'll wrap poison in sweet candy as bait. If you willingly swallow it, then even if I wanted to help, I wouldn't be able to save you."
Reflecting on everything that had happened, Charlize had to admit she'd made more than a few mistakes. The biggest one was probably trusting John too much, never questioning his arrangements.
Henry continued, "If you want to stay in Hollywood and keep chasing your dream of becoming a star, then let me be your agent.
"I don't have any film resources. At best, I can just run to the Screen Actors Guild more often than most. But no matter what, that's better than an agent who can only get you modeling gigs—and eventually shove you into Playboy shoots, like John did.
"This would only be temporary, though—until you find a more capable agent. I can help you stay in the film circle, but if you want to climb higher, you'll need someone better than me.
"As for acting school, I don't think you need to go. Save that tuition money, work fewer odd jobs—I'll teach you acting myself. Sure, getting recommended by an acting coach is one possible route.
"But for where you are right now, I think the priority should be extending the amount of time you can stay in Hollywood—not gambling everything on short-term, unreliable opportunities."
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