Lost In Pacific Time

Amber drives us there in her Mercedes; I notice that there isn’t a single dog hair on the magenta leather seats. She’s still an awful driver but I’m not exactly amazing either from playing too much Grand Theft Auto when I was thirteen. Our drive takes us through the downtown core and it’s obvious that the people recognize her. There are whispers and I hear someone scream Amber’s name to get her attention, she waves and it isn’t long before people are whispering my name too. Amber and Milan. People begin to take out their camera phones and snap pictures but Amber drives away before they get a good shot or at least one they can sell.

I think Amber is lost; we’re weaving through the streets of downtown where every other store is a Starbucks. We drive past the boarded up Hudson Bay Company and I feel a slight pang of undeserved guilt. We pass by another couple of boarded up store fronts Amber seems to have remembered where she was going because she finally drives out of the congested downtown core.

We talk about the weather and she tells me a story involving her and Greg pulling an all-nighter at a dinner in the San Fernando Valley.

“I used to find any excuse to drive here, remember?” Amber asks as we drive into Shaughnessy, the land of golf courses and nine foot hedges hiding the ten million dollar mansions. I’ve seen some of the houses Amber decorates in LA, they put these houses to shame.

“Yeah, you used to be fascinated about what kind of people lived in there.” I reply
remembering teenaged Amber and her slightly envious rants about Vancouver’s wealthy.
“I was fascinated with the affluence and opulence” She replies wistfully.

On West 33rd Avenue and Granville, we pass by the familiar unfinished lot “Can you believe they aren’t done yet?” I ask and Amber turns to look.

“Honestly it’s been like ten years, what kind of house are they trying to build?” Amber asks readjusting her large Prada sunglasses.

“Apparently a huge-ass house” I reply as Amber idles in front of it. It is a pretty big house; it looks like it has several towers and maybe an elevator or two, it’s so big that there probably won’t be enough room in the yard for any kind of pool on the property.

Amber meanders around the streets some more and I feel as though I’m on an Architecture of Vancouver tour the way she rambles on about the Colonial, Cape cod, Georgian, West Coast Contemporary style homes we pass.

Amber turns onto West 41st Avenue and drives for several blocks until we reach a fairly large building with large windows.

“Isn’t this place great?” Amber asks as she admires one of Pier One Imports’ many display windows.

“How would I know? I haven’t been inside yet.” I tell her as stopping to look at the window as well. Its bohemian themed with lots of paisley and swirly patterns, it gives me a headache just looking at it.

“I love the feel to it,” Amber says “I love the way the patterns all mix together, it all should be too much but it works.” She adds before leaving the window.

I like the way Amber talks about rooms and all the components within the room, it’s like she’s talking about art. As we walk into the store, I notice that it’s a hodgepodge of interiors, I can tell that Amber is really going to have to dig around this place before she can find something she wants. I’ve decided to stand back and let Amber do her thing, I assume she knows what she’s doing and how to achieve the “contemporary and regal” or whatever look it was that she wanted. Decorating-wise I am whipped.

We walk into the store and seem to blend in fairly well with the middle aged women shopping for candle. Whatever cover we have is blown when the youngish looking clerk walks up to us “Oh my gosh, Ambrosia Li? I love your show.” She says and Amber shakes her hand and looks over at me “Milan Lucic?!”

“Hi,” I reply giving an awkward wave.

“Is this a date?” asks the clerk as if we’re old friends who have just run into each other.

“Kind of, I’m helping Milan decorate this house.” Amber says with a smile.

“Oh, great well I’m Sydney, just let me know if you need any help.” Sydney replies handing Amber and I each a wicker basket, presumably to put our purchases in, obviously I don’t really do much of this interior design stuff.

“I’m always so awkward when I’m dealing with fans like that.” I say once Sydney is out of ear shot.

“It’s not that hard, you just treat them like normal people and be yourself, everyone hates twofaced people.” Amber replies picking up a yellow urn “What do you think of this?”

“It’s interesting,” I reply as Amber attempts to lift it up before ultimately deciding that it’s too big for her basket. Instead Amber takes out a notebook and a silver fountain pen to scribble something down. She’s always so damn prepared, I wonder if she has a week’s supply of water inside of her thousand dollar bag in case of an earthquake.
______

“Do you like this armoire? I was thinking of putting it into one of the guest bedrooms.” I say, I really like the faded white paint on it.

“Don’t we already have from today two armoires?” Milan asks picking up another yellow decorative pillow and putting it into the basket. Those seem to be his favorite thing to pick out.

“You have seven bedrooms, you’re going to need several armoires.” I explain putting down an order for the armoire anyway. Sydney was kind enough to supply me with an order sheet to have some of my orders shipped to Milan’s house and the rest to my firm in LA.

It takes Milan and I two more hours before we’ve went through the entire inventory of the store. The total cost of this trip to Pier One Imports seems to have a total cost of several more zeros than I’d like but nothing too crazy.

“I don’t want to go home yet,” I say as Milan fills up the trunk of my Mercedes with his twenty or so decorative pillows.
_____

“How about we get some coffee then? There’s a great place up the street, Caffè something.” I say looking up the street, it is lined with small businesses like pharmacies and clothing boutiques.

“Caffè Artigiano” Amber replies and marches up the street. “Oh,” she says as we pass by a boutique.

I sigh “Do you want to go inside?” I ask.

“It’ll be quick I promise Milan, I just need to buy that dress.” Amber says pointing to a shimmery gold maxi dress.

It didn’t take her as quick as she promised because there were several other boutiques between where we were to Caffè Artigiano. Eventually we got there and I snagged the two of us a seat on the patio, perfect for people watching.

“I love this coffee,” Amber says blowing on the steam coming from her oversized coffee cup “it’s so good. Why haven’t we been here before?”

“Because fifteen dollar coffee is outrageous.” I reply. Sure the coffee is good but not good enough to cost as much as an entrée at the Cactus Club. Speaking of the Cactus Club… “You want to go for brunch tomorrow at Cactus Club Café?” I ask Amber “I mean if you’re not busy.”

“Milan, I’m never busy.” Amber replies dipping her almond biscotti into her cup of coffee and munching on it. “Sure brunch tomorrow and then we can do some antiquing in Gastown.

“How about the one on Burrard?” Amber asks taking her BlackBerry to schedule me in, even though she claims she has nothing else going on.

“Sure,” I reply watching as Amber watches an elderly couple holding hands cross the street.

“It must be great to be old,” Amber says as the couple disappears into an orthopedic shoe store.

“Um…not really,” Who wants to be old? You get wrinkles and health problems plus all your best years are behind you.

“I think so, your life has been lived. Now you can do whatever you want with your time, it’s no longer an object. My life has always been about meeting deadlines but this past week has just been amazing. I’m drinking coffee and people watching in a café instead of while I’m driving on my way to work. And today I’ve slept until one in the afternoon. Life must be pretty awesome when you don’t have to work anymore.”

I disagree with her, life without the routine of practices and games kind of sucks. “Are you out of love with interior design?” I ask her. I hope she isn’t, well for selfish reasons. She isn’t done my house yet but I’m not going to pressure her into doing something she doesn’t want to do. At the same time if I actually hire another interior designer it’s like getting an artist to finish a painting for another artist. Amber has this vision for my house and I don’t want to let some stranger screw it up.

“When I get back to LA I’ll be expanding the firm. Maybe I’ll take on not as many projects and give more responsibilities to Greg, Ivy, and Jasmine. Then I can work closer with the designers at Saks.”

“Saks?” I ask, as the elderly couple leaves the orthopedic shoe store empty handed.

“I’m going to have a furniture line for Saks,” Amber replies “It’s kind of a big deal.”

I nod half-heartedly and Amber pauses “It would be like you getting your own line of hockey equipment,”

“Oh, gotcha” I say finishing the rest of my coffee while Amber dangles her legs and eats her biscotti.