..She became a dog walker.
Yes, she became Cesare Viglieri's dog walker—one with exceptional perks. Jenny believed her compensation would make every dog walker in the world envious.
First, most dog walkers handle over a dozen dogs, with the minimum being five or six. Jenny walked just one dog, yet her salary matched—or even exceeded—that of ordinary dog walkers.
Second, her employer provided her with a car.
...an Audi A8.
This model was Audi's new release in 1999. Before the A8L debuted in 2001, it was considered a mainstream luxury sedan. Cesare had driven her home in this very car. Since Beverly Hills was an exclusive community with limited public transportation, commuting without a car was inconvenient. Cesare had temporarily authorized her to use it through Jim. After all, he wouldn't need it for the entire month he was in Europe.
Wasn't there a second car she could borrow? Jenny wondered.
The answer was yes—a second car, even more expensive: a 1998 limited-edition Bugatti Veyron.
Well, anyway, both Jenny and Chen Zhen knew how to drive. Chen Zhen had previously driven Lamborghinis and Lotuses, so a mere Audi A8 wouldn't make her feel inadequate.
So now she drives the A8 everywhere daily—first to the CAA-arranged classes for acting, pronunciation, accent training, and physicality, then to the Vijay family home every afternoon to walk the dog, followed by another walk after evening classes before heading home to sleep. Actually, Cesare's decision to have her quit was necessary; with such an intensive schedule, Jenny couldn't possibly maintain a full-time job.
Even the job Cesare offered now carried a strong sense of charity. When Jenny asked about pay, Jim said, "Whatever you made at your old job, that's what you'll make here."
It was fantastic—walking one dog twice a day, earning over four thousand dollars, with the employer providing an A8 driver and covering gas—her level of happiness would likely make many Americans envious.
But that doesn't mean Jenny's life actually got easier. If anything changed, it was that she grew even more exhausted.
Back at the fast-food joint, it was physical labor without mental strain—simple work she handled effortlessly. Now, in class, every session demanded her full attention to listen and learn, especially the acting classes. having an acting studio doesn't guarantee high marks. The class demands rapid memorization of lines, improvisation, and countless small exercises—areas where the studio offers no advantage. It tests fundamental skills, or rather, builds them. For Chen Zhen, her only edge was having taken similar courses in her past life; she couldn't exactly claim to have no foundation.
So far, her only stress-free class is physical training. After all, in her past life, she essentially charmed her way through things—skills she couldn't afford to neglect. Combined with her slender figure and refined demeanor, she hasn't come across as overly vulgar. The physical training instructor is quite pleased with her, frequently using her as a model for demonstrations to the class.
Pronunciation class proved far more challenging for Jenny. While she spoke with a standard accent tinged only with southern nuances, Cesare deemed it insufficient. The goal was to refine Jenny's speech into the pure, aristocratic Upper East Side New York accent. The accent classes covered everything from Southern accents to Irish and British accents. Unlike Chinese TV dramas, which later focused on eliminating dialects, the Western entertainment industry places great importance on pronunciation. If someone with a pure American accent played a British aristocrat, critics and audiences alike would dismiss the work as a joke.
Tortured daily by these rotating classes, Jenny felt more exhausted than during her regular workday. She'd already cut her workout time to an hour, then ran a few laps around the park with her dogs during their twice-daily walks to fulfill her exercise quota. —Especially since she was constantly practicing acting on her own in the performance space. All told, she was putting in over twenty hours of training daily. Though she was getting enough sleep, that mental exhaustion and the emotional instability from chronic hunger still clung to her like shadows.
"Let's go, Washington." Jenny bent down to tuck her pant legs, hopped up and down a few times, then led the excited, panting German Shepherd out the door. "Seriously, what kind of person names their dog Washington?"
To be honest, she never imagined Cesare would be the type to own a dog. She'd pictured his home as a cold, spotless postmodern space, devoid of any living creatures besides himself. In reality, Cesare's place was a quintessential American home—casual and relaxed, complete with a tank of tropical fish alongside Washington. That said, his place was spotless. A cleaner came every morning to maintain the hygiene and feed Washington, while Jenny prepared his dinner after evening walks. Washington was smart and clean—never relieving himself outdoors. After eating, he'd go to the backyard to do his business, and Jenny just had to clean up the mess before leaving.
After circling the neighborhood four times—roughly five kilometers—Washington was panting with his tongue hanging out, yet his spirits remained high. German Shepherds rank fourth in canine intelligence, equivalent to a five- or six-year-old child. He already knew Jenny usually ran about five laps in the evening.
But Jenny was utterly exhausted tonight. She hadn't slept well last night—the apartment's air conditioning was out for maintenance for three days—and today had been an especially busy and grueling day.
"Shall we go home, Washington?" she asked the dog.
Washington whimpered, shooting her a pitiful puppy-dog look.
"Alright, alright." Jenny surrendered, running two more laps before finally bringing the satisfied dog home. She prepared his dinner and fresh water, instructing, "Rest five minutes before eating."
After tidying up, she sat cross-legged on the floor, flipping through late-night TV channels. Washington feasted heartily in the yard. Mealtime and bathroom breaks usually took twenty minutes to half an hour, during which Jenny would either watch the news or log into the entertainment portal for some extra practice.
Tonight, she was incredibly tired. After watching TV for just a moment, her body tilted sideways and she drifted off, thinking she'd just take a quick nap and wake up when she heard Washington's call.
...
When Jenny woke up, dawn had already broken. She sat up, the blanket slipping to her waist. Washington barked twice in the yard.
"Oh no, oh no!" Jenny hurriedly checked the time—she had just over an hour until her first class.
Factoring in driving, showering, and getting dressed, she'd have no time for breakfast. Great, a hungry morning—just what she needed.
Jenny pushed the blanket aside and began gathering her things—then froze. This blanket wasn't from the living room. At least, she hadn't seen it on the sofa before. She couldn't have pulled it off herself.
She stepped out onto the back porch to check. Washington's dog toilet was spotless, freshly lined with a new puppy pad.
Huh? The cleaning crew usually came at 10 a.m., and it was only 7:50 a.m. So she'd encountered a kind-hearted weirdo who'd broken into her house at night, covered her with a blanket, and cleaned up Washington's toilet?
That seemed unlikely. Jenny walked to the front window and suddenly noticed another car parked on the driveway besides Cesare's A8—a red BMW Mini Cooper.
"Good morning." As if to resolve her confusion, footsteps echoed on the stairs. A young brunette in pajamas entered the living room. "You're awake! Great! I just spoke with Jim. He said you have class this morning and need to be up by 8. I was about to come wake you."
She extended her hand to Jenny. "I'm Lilian Svensson, Cesare's girlfriend. You must be Jenny?"
Jenny mechanically shook her hand. "Um, I didn't know anyone else lived here?"
"I've been working night shifts lately," Lilian said with a smile, her demeanor friendly toward Jenny. "I work afternoons and finish at dawn, so we haven't crossed paths. When I came home last night, you were sleeping so soundly I didn't want to wake you. Would you like breakfast? If you need to shower, there's a guest room upstairs. We have disposable underwear here too. I'm about your height, so you can borrow my clothes for now and change when you get home."
In truth, considering Jenny was now driving her boyfriend's car, walking his dog, and receiving above-standard compensation for it—not to mention how young and beautiful Jenny was—Lillian's friendliness bordered on unnerving.
"You know—thank you. Really, thank you." "Jenny said quickly. "I really do need a shower, then I should grab breakfast fast. It's not far to drive to school from here. Seriously, thank you."
"No problem." Lillian's kindness was reciprocated, and she smiled happily. "The guest room is the first door on the left upstairs."
Jenny turned and ran upstairs, diving into the bathroom for a thoroughly satisfying shower. When she emerged, disposable underwear and a robe were laid out on the bed, and the aroma of coffee wafted up from downstairs.
"I'm not much of a cook," Lillian said as Jenny descended the stairs. "This is yesterday's leftover salad and mashed potatoes. I boiled two eggs, and there's some toast, milk, orange juice—"
"This is more than enough," Jenny glanced at her watch. "Thank you. I can sit down and finish slowly without being late."
"You're welcome." Lilian sat down across from her. "I've been wanting to meet you for ages. Cesare mentioned you—said you had even more potential than the other Jennifer. Just been swamped lately, never found the time."
They chatted casually for a few minutes. Jenny learned Lilian was a medical intern, the same age as Cesare. She'd just started her hospital rotation this year and was currently on night shifts, which meant irregular hours. She and Cesare were family friends, having known each other since childhood. After both moving to Los Angeles, they naturally started dating and had been together for two years now.
Lilian... ...once again surprised Jenny a little. Though she was pretty, it was the kind of plain, everyday beauty—not camera-ready. And clearly, she was an approachable, genuinely kind person. In Jenny's mind, Cesare's girlfriend should have been like Narcissa Malfoy from Harry Potter—aloof, cold, and proud... basically, a mirror image of Cesare himself.
Of course, Lillian's easygoing nature was a stroke of luck for Jenny. They bonded over breakfast, and Lillian expressed particular gratitude for how happily Jenny had cared for Washington. "We've hired other dog walkers, but Washington has never been as happy or healthy as he is with you."
Jenny explained why she'd slept on the floor the previous night. Upon hearing about her air conditioning repairs, Lilian immediately invited Jenny to stay at her place. "There are plenty of empty rooms. I often feel lonely living alone. You can stay until Cesare returns. It's also more convenient for you to commute to class from here."
Jenny felt a bit overwhelmed by this warmth. "Um, but I don't think Mr. Vijay would be happy—I mean, it is his house after all—"
"It's my house too," Lillian insisted firmly, then suddenly smiled. "Actually, it is my house. Daddy bought it for me the year I came to study in Los Angeles. Cesare is, at most, just a longer-term roommate than you."
She was obviously joking, and the sweetness in Lillian's voice when she mentioned Cesare was unmistakable. Jenny couldn't understand how someone as lovely as Lillian could get along so well with Cesare.
She wasn't particularly eager to move into Lilian's place. Though the location was prime, the decor stylish, and the space more comfortable, it still felt like living under someone else's roof. But Lilian was adamant, and Jenny couldn't refuse too firmly, fearing it would strain their relationship. After several more refusals, she finally accepted Lilian's invitation to stay two more nights, promising to leave once the repairs were complete.
Jenny quickly regretted this decision—within three or four days. She discovered Lilian was indeed a charming roommate, and her fear of loneliness stemmed from her nurturing, motherly personality.
By the second day after Jenny moved in, Lilian had resumed her regular shift schedule, which aligned almost perfectly with Jenny's. She quickly learned Jenny's eating and sleeping habits and took excellent care of her. For several days straight, Jenny had breakfast, went running together in the evenings, and walked the dog—Jenny wasn't made of iron, and in this lonely life of advanced studies, she certainly needed a friend.
Ultimately, with Lilian's encouragement—Lilian told her Cesare also wanted her to move in, and Jenny had promised to "be good"—she semi-officially moved into Lilian's home. Around that same time, Jim found her. "Cesare got you an audition. I'll bring the materials over shortly. This one's a bit special; you might need to prepare specifically for it."
"What movie?" Jenny asked.
Jim announced, "It's a musical starring Catherine Zeta-Jones and Renée Zellweger, directed by Rob Marshall. It's an adaptation of the Broadway hit Chicago."
The 2003 Academy Award winner for Best Picture... Jenny felt a little dizzy: Last month, she had to pull strings just to land a guest role on a TV series. This month, she was auditioning for a future Best Picture contender.
Damn, signing with Cesare Viglieri was the best decision she'd ever made.