"You Can't Stay a Saint in This City"

We were all getting our own milkshakes at Millions of Milkshakes. I mean we‘re not obligated to accept the honor but then Greg saw the appearance fee they were willing to fork out. And now here we are in their West Hollywood location. Aren’t we all whores for money?

I guess the offer wasn’t that bad, I got to wear a hot pink apron, make a milkshake, and pocket some cash. This was an easy way to make a living.

“There are so many people here.” I say as we drive past the front of the store there are even people standing on the road.

“What are you expecting Amber? We aren’t exactly anonymous nobodies like we were a year ago” Ivy asks as she curls her eyelashes.

“I don’t know,” I say the car stops in the back entrance of Millions of Milkshakes.

“You aren’t very self-aware” Greg says as we get out of the car “These people see you wearing that Zac Posen dress and all of the sudden it’s sold old out everywhere you look.”

“Fine, I have influence.” I admit as I we walk past the stacks paper cups.

“Millions of Milkshakes is proud to present: Ivy Bergdorf, Greg Martin and Amber Li of Decking Out Tinseltown” Says a generic announcer guy.

The screams get louder as the people inside the store get their first glimpse of us.

“Hi everyone” I say, already miced up thanks to more filming by Decking out Tinseltown.

We pose for photo ops as we put our hot pink aprons over our heads. Greg volunteers to go first. It’s only suiting that his milkshake looks and probably tastes like a hot mess. Sprinkles, Skittles, M&Ms, gummy bears, caramel syrup, and coconut are what you get when you let Greg have full reign. Ivy goes next and makes a vegan friendly dairy-free milkshake with pineapples, cherries, and almonds.

“So what are you going to put in your milkshake Amber?” the manager asks as he hands me a clean jug.

“Um…” I look at all the ingredients at my disposal there are: chopped up protein bars like Milan would eat during at the summer; Milky Way bars that were my favorite childhood candy bar but I couldn’t find in Canadian stores; peaches which were the same color as my uniform from Home Depot during my teenage years.

“I’m going to put in Oreos, Junior Mints, and Brownies.” I say as I scoop the ingredients in the jug deciding to keep it safe. The crowd cheers for basically no reason but I do love them.

“Very good, Amber” says the manager as I take my milkshake to the blender.

“Yum,” I say as I take a sip, no better form to drink half your calorie allowance. “thank you all for coming,” I say to the hundred or so people who showed up.

“Catch us on Bravo Wednesdays at Seven.” Ivy adds and the two of us decide to leave without Greg who is shouting something about following him on Twitter.

My Blackberry rings from the pocket of my purple Zac Posen dress. “Hello?”

“Hi Ambrosia”

I sigh “Hi Mike, I got your … um delivery”

“Arnold’s here?” Mike asks clearly surprised.

“Yeah, he’s cute”

“You know they say dogs look like their owners…” I hear the smile in his voice.

“There’s an exception to every rule” I sip on my milkshake “So does he have any quirks I should know about?”

“No, he’s just a dog. He doesn’t need your cashmere blankets and leather leashes.”

“I’m going to be a hard act to follow” I say imagining Mike making Arnold sleep on the cold polished cement floors of his kitchen.

“What are you doing?” Mike asks

“I just got my own milkshake at Millions of Milkshakes.” I say as Greg finally gets into the driver seat of the company Escalade.

Mike laughs. “I bet you think it’s pretty stupid but these milkshakes are like the best.” I tell him as we drive up Santa Monica Boulevard.

Mike and I talk for the entire ride home and then some. I yawn, it’s getting late, I wonder what time is it for him.

“Your house is very beautiful.” I tell him. “Who’d you hire? Jeffrey Allan Marks? Martin Lawrence Bullard?” because clearly I was not hired for the task.

“I’ll be sure to tell my mom that you like it.” Mike says as I lie down in my cabana. His mom, really?

“Is grey your favorite color or something?” I ask remembering all the grey in his house.

“I like grey for a lot of things but I wouldn’t call it my favorite color. What’s yours? Let me guess red.”

“I like all colors so I guess you’re kind of right.” You can’t really play favorites if you’re an interior designer.

.“You’re favorite color for a jersey is red right?” He asks seeming to pick up on the many jerseys I wear around the house

“Capitals, Red Wings, Blackhawks, Wild, Hurricanes, Devils, Senators, Flames, and Canadiens. There’s nothing wrong with them.” I say listing them off using my fingers.

“The Canadiens? How does your boyfriend feel about that?” Oh right Boston and Montreal don’t get along. I guess when you think about it none of the teams get along.

“He doesn’t need to know.” I shrug “Besides it’s only because I find Carey Price very attractive.”

I think I can hear Mike trying not to laugh “That’s even worse than liking them for normal reasons”

“Carey Price is from my home province. NHL hockey players from British Columbia are rare.” I also imagine that Keri Hilson’s Pretty Girl Rock plays in his head every time he makes a save. My name is Keri/ I’m so fly it’s a little bit scary/Don’t hate me cuz I’m beautiful.

“Well just our buddies from the Olympics we have Shea Webber, Duncan Keith, Brent Seabrook…” Mike begins to list.

“They don’t count, they’re all defence men. They’re like the bass players of the band. Those guys never get the chicks” Mike laughs and I hear someone say something in the background of the other end.

“Drew wants you to keep your opinions to yourself.

“Doughty?”

“Yeah,”

“What made him stop being a diva and decide to come to training camp?”

“56 million dollars” That’s a lot of money, I’m sure that’s going to help his game with the ladies.

“Any way what’s the big deal about Carey Price and his subpar goaltending?”

“He and Peter Budaj are serious contenders for this year’s most attractive goaltending duo.” Greg says who has somehow gotten into my house. Greg has decided that hockey is the new it-thing so he’s basically spent the days in his office reading “Hockey For Dummies” and memorizing every team’s roster.

“I see… the most prestigious Ambrosia Li Hockey Award.” Mike says trying to sound serious.

“Yeah, Pekka Rinne and Anders Lindback won it last year; Ryan Miller and Jhonas Enroth were runners up.” It’s sad how much time I spent trying to decide which was the better of the two. I conducted an office poll which eliminated Semyon Varlamov and Michael Neuvirth as well as Jimmy Howard and Chris Osgood much to my dismay.

“So getting nominated for an NHL award is a total turn on for you?” Mike subtly trying to allude to something or another. Maybe just the Veniza. I have a soft spot for goalies it’s always a pleasant surprise when they take off their masks and have pretty faces.

“Why were you nominated for one?” I ask falling into his trap.

“I was nominated for the Selke it’s the—”

“Award that Datsyuk always wins” I finish. I think it’s the one for best two-way forward or something. I think Ryan Kesler won it this year and ended Datsyuk’s streak of 3 straight which means Mike didn’t the year he was nominated. I wonder there are any NHL Awards for Milan to win. I pull out my handy dandy iPad and look it up. Definitely not the Lady Byng.

I yawn “Mike I’m going to go now.”

“Bye Ambrosia.” He says.

I look at the screen: that was a four hour phone call. I’ve never been on the phone for that long before. That’s like $50 worth of long distance fees.

“I think someone is being a little shady,” Greg says taking a tub of Ben and Jerry’s before leaving out the door. Because Greg has such as great moral compass.