A Dog Got Me a Hollywood Sugar Daddy

Winter's POV

The windshield wipers were going CRAZY against the glass, but they couldn't clear this downpour. I gripped the steering wheel tight, squinting through the blur that was Pacific Coast Highway.

Twelve hours. I'd been on my feet at Sunrise Café for a full twelve hours, plastering on that fake customer service smile while making lattes for entitled customers. My feet were swollen, my back was KILLING me.

But none of that compared to the number in my bank account—$247.

My phone buzzed. I saw the caller ID and my heart instantly sank. Landlord.

"Hello?"

"Winter, my patience has limits. Rent's been a week overdue. By tomorrow—$1,200, not a penny less. Or you're OUT!"

Beep—

Call ended. I threw the phone onto the passenger seat and gripped the wheel harder. DAMN IT! $1,200! I could sell myself and still not come up with that much.

"God, why is my life just so..."

A golden figure suddenly burst through the rain, standing right in front of my car! I slammed the brakes, my beat-up Honda screeching and sliding several feet on the wet pavement before stopping.

My heart nearly jumped out of my chest.

"What the hell are you doing? Move!" I rolled down the window, shouting at the figure.

Rain instantly soaked my face, but I finally saw clearly—it was a Golden Retriever, looked pretty old. It just stood there in my headlight beam, soaked to the bone, but those brown eyes were staring straight at me.

This was just WEIRD.

I honked, trying to scare it away. Nothing. I honked again, harder. Not only didn't it leave, it slowly walked toward my car door.

The rain was getting worse, and except for us, there wasn't a soul on the road. I was getting scared. Did this dog have rabies? Would it suddenly go crazy and bite me?

But when I saw its trembling body and those confused, fearful eyes, my defenses crumbled instantly.

DAMN IT! This was just like me—I couldn't ignore any animal that needed help.

I sighed and pushed open the car door. Rain instantly drenched me, but the Golden didn't run. Instead, it walked toward me.

"Hey there, buddy," I crouched down, extending my hand. "Are you lost?"

It sniffed my hand gently, then did something that shocked me—it jumped right into my car!

"Wait! You can't..."

But it was already settled comfortably in the passenger seat, even looking at me politely, as if saying, "Okay, we can go now."

I stood in the rain, looking at this dog that had made itself completely at home, torn between crying and laughing.

"Fine, you win." I shook my head helplessly and got into the driver's seat. "But just for tonight. Tomorrow I'm taking you to a shelter."

It seemed to understand, wagging its tail lightly before sitting quietly.

Driving back to Venice Beach, I couldn't help but study this strange dog. It was well-behaved, didn't mess around, didn't even dirty my car seat. Stranger still, it kept glancing at me with something like recognition in its eyes.

"You're not just some stray, are you?" I muttered to myself. "Someone's looking for you."

Hearing this, it whimpered softly, sounding both wronged and affectionate.

My heart softened. Whatever, just for tonight.

My apartment was a studio in an old Venice Beach building—basically one big room, but it was my only home in LA. Opening the door, the Golden naturally followed me in and started surveying the space.

I found a dry towel. "Come here, let me dry you off."

It was surprisingly cooperative, letting me wipe down its soaked fur. Under the light, I noticed its coat was really beautiful, clearly well-cared for normally.

"You're definitely not a stray," I said while drying. "Your owner must love you. They're probably worried sick right now."

Saying this, I suddenly felt sad. I couldn't even take care of myself—what right did I have to keep a pet? But seeing this dog trust me so completely, I couldn't bear to turn it away.

After drying off, it curled up on the rug beside my bed, watching me constantly. When I lay down, it quietly crept to the bedside and gently rested its head on the edge.

"Are you being cute on purpose?" I couldn't help but smile, reaching out to pet its head. "Okay, you can sleep here tonight."

It nuzzled my hand gently, then closed its eyes peacefully.

Listening to the rain outside, I felt a security I hadn't experienced in ages. How long had it been since someone—well, "something"—needed me like this?

A few days later, I noticed the dog (I'd named it Ruby) showing signs of arthritis. Sometimes it walked a bit stiffly, especially in the mornings.

Looking at my meager bank balance, then at Ruby's expectant eyes, I finally bit the bullet and took it to a nearby vet clinic.

"It does have some joint issues," the doctor said after examining. "But overall health is good. From the build and coat, this should be a purebred Golden. Where did you find it?"

"It found me," I smiled wryly. "Doctor, about how much would treatment cost?"

"Joint care medication is $200 a month. If you want a full workup..."

My heart sank. $200 was astronomical for me.

But when I saw Ruby sitting quietly on the exam table, looking at me with such trust, I made a crazy decision.

"Full workup," I heard myself say. "And the medication."

Walking out of the clinic, my wallet was completely empty, but Ruby was bouncing happily beside me, tail wagging non-stop.

"Little guy, you bankrupted me," I crouched down to look at it. "But I don't regret it."

It came over and nuzzled my hand. In that moment, I knew we were truly family.

But happiness was always fleeting.

Early one morning, I was walking Ruby along the beach, enjoying the rare sunshine. Ruby was especially excited today, sniffing everywhere, tail wagging constantly.

Just as we were about to turn back home, I noticed a black SUV slowly following behind us. At first I didn't think much of it, but when I deliberately changed routes and the car followed suit, an ominous feeling crept up.

Debt collectors? My heart raced. Could it be my dad's creditors had found me?

I pretended to casually glance back—the windows were tinted, couldn't see inside. But that car was definitely tailing us.

"Ruby, we need to get out of here," I whispered. "There might be trouble."