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Sequel: When Hearts Are on the Line ›
Status: I'll Usually Post a New Chapter At Least Once a Week.
"You Can't Stay a Saint in This City"
We Were Almost Make-Believe, Innocent and Nervous
“What are you doing?” asks Greg from across the table at the Beverly Hills Cheesecake Factory.
“Searching up how much money Mike Richards makes.” I say as Greg shakes his head.
“You are the worst you know that Amber?” Greg says clearly misunderstanding the situation.
“If he expects me to understand his obscure references I think I need to do some research”
“Yes I’m sure somewhere along the way he’s going to just going to casually refer to how much money he makes.” Greg says sarcastically.
“And when he does I will know.” I say slipping my phone in my aqua Chanel purse and picking up my menu “What’s a Boston Salad?”
“I’ve never heard of it, where is it?” asks Jasmine who has settled on her Buffalo Wings and Baja Chicken Tacos like she always does every time we’re here.
“Page three under appetizer salads” I tell them as our server comes back with our drinks.
BOSTON HOUSE SALAD 8.95
Boston Lettuce Tossed with Chopped Bacon, Egg, Blue Cheese, Croutons and Ranch Dressing
“That sounds like just a cobb salad, Amber” Ivy says, the only true East Coast native of the four of us, well except Jeff but he’s not supposed to talk when we have our ‘riveting’ arguments. And Jasmine’s from Georgia but that doesn’t count since she moved around a lot.
“But they call it a Boston salad and it has Boston lettuce in it.” I say extremely curious about this salad and its origins.
“I have never heard of this salad before.” Jasmine says patting her lips with a napkin to wipe off her lilac lipstick.
“Here, let me look it up because your phone is too busy crunching NHL salaries apparently.” Greg says sipping his iced tea. “I’m not getting anything. It must just be a renamed cobb salad.”
“Oh okay.” I say a little disappointed but I was at the Cheesecake Factory did I really want to eat a salad?
”All set to order?” asks the waitress coming back with a note pad.
“Yup, I’ll have the Garlic Noodles and the Red Velvet Cheesecake.” I say as I hand the waitress my menu.
________
“Have you’ve ever heard of a Boston salad?” I ask Milan as I microwave my garlic noodles from earlier.
Milan laughs “No Amber I have not, is it something you found on Urban Dictionary?”
I guess it’s not a real thing after all. Well, the noodles were great and the cheesecake was great. No regrets.
“You’re getting me chirped Amber.” Milan says with a playful smile.
“Me?” I ask innocently, I say a lot of things that provides ammunition for the other team. For example what I said to Mike the other day about Carey Price but nothing too bad.
“Yeah Mr. Hilary Duff isn’t too happy with you”
_______
“Who’s your least favorite hockey player?” asks Greg as We watch the Kings take on the Ducks in the preseason. For some reason the crew was now following us to the game, the Kings didn’t mind they wanted all the all the press they could get and I didn’t blame them. They’d probably put Mike on the show too if they knew he was my neighbour.
“Mike Comrie” I reply without another thought and I think I hear Jeff snicker.
“Who?” asks Greg as we watch Kevin Westgarth and Brian McGratten get into a fight near the start of the second period. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of either of them but that’s preseason for you.
“He married Hilary Duff” I explain in terms Greg can understand.
Greg frowns “What has he ever done?”
“His family founded The Brick.” I tell him but Greg doesn’t seem to understand. I clear my throat “Okay in Canada we have this chain of furniture stores named The Brick. Their furniture is so friggin’ ugly it makes me want to throw up.”
“Snob much?” asks Greg as he munches on a jumbo soft pretzel. Wow that looks good.
I rip off a piece of Greg’s pretzel “Honestly it’s so ugly. Like it tries to be contemporary but they use honey wood for their consoles. For fucksake, honey wood consoles!” I exclaim but everyone else in the arena stares at me like I’m the intermission entertainment.
Greg nods, understanding in a way only a fellow interior designer can “I can’t imagine that a train wreck their furniture is.”
“What’s even worse is that the Canadians up north eat it up. Mark my words Greg; part of my mission statement is going be to bring amazing furniture back into Canadian homes.” I say as I watch Mike’s numbers rise and fall dramatically from his heavy breathing in front of me.
_______
“You could totally take him.” I assure Milan “Is he even still playing?” I ask, I actually never remembered him playing hockey ever “I heard he let Hilary Duff’s cars get repossessed.”
“Probably couldn’t afford to keep them after you slandered his family’s cash cow.” Milan tsks.
“I can’t help it if certain things set me off.” Bad furniture is definitely one of them. I hop onto my counter and stab a sun dried tomato with my fork.
“You like to laugh at people’s misfortunes?” Milan asks as I twirl my noodles on my fork. I feel so rude eating when the person I’m talking to isn’t.
I’ll admit it I have a bitchy side but like Tina Fey said ‘Bitches get things done’ “Only when Mike Comrie probably grew up in a giant mansion in Edmonton while you and I basically came from nothing.”
CNBC did a whole report on it after my comments on last week’s show. Apparently The Brick has tried suing me for defamation but the cute lawyer we finally got around to hiring told me not to worry about it. It’s because of Freedom of Speech and that my opinion that their furniture is ugly is just that; my opinion.
“Enough about me,” I take a giant sip of Jones Soda “Is there something you want to show me?”
“I believe there is.” Milan says as he open his hand. Right there in the palm is a ring the size of an unshelled walnut.
“It’s amazing Milan, I’m so proud of you and you deserve every single diamond on that ostentatious ring.” I tell him as I put my bowl in the sink.
“I’m proud of you too, International Interior Decorator of the Year 2007-2011.” I watch as Milan stares down at the notes he wrote on his hand “and recipient of the Three 2012 Primetime Emmys for Outstanding Main Title Theme Music, Outstanding Reality Programing, and Outstanding Music Composition for a Series. Are these even real categories?” Milan asks and I don’t blame him. I used to think that the Emmys only gave out best actor/actress awards but apparently they had like hundreds of awards that they didn’t even show on air.
“Aren’t we quite the power couple?” I tell Milan with a smile. “So who wrote that flattery speech for you?” He wasn’t doing a very good job at subtly looking down at his hand and I could see the blue writing on his hand.
“The Wives and Girlfriends. They can’t wait to meet you.”
“Great,” I say trying not to let the nerves of one day being judged by a room full of women get to me.
“Searching up how much money Mike Richards makes.” I say as Greg shakes his head.
“You are the worst you know that Amber?” Greg says clearly misunderstanding the situation.
“If he expects me to understand his obscure references I think I need to do some research”
“Yes I’m sure somewhere along the way he’s going to just going to casually refer to how much money he makes.” Greg says sarcastically.
“And when he does I will know.” I say slipping my phone in my aqua Chanel purse and picking up my menu “What’s a Boston Salad?”
“I’ve never heard of it, where is it?” asks Jasmine who has settled on her Buffalo Wings and Baja Chicken Tacos like she always does every time we’re here.
“Page three under appetizer salads” I tell them as our server comes back with our drinks.
BOSTON HOUSE SALAD 8.95
Boston Lettuce Tossed with Chopped Bacon, Egg, Blue Cheese, Croutons and Ranch Dressing
“That sounds like just a cobb salad, Amber” Ivy says, the only true East Coast native of the four of us, well except Jeff but he’s not supposed to talk when we have our ‘riveting’ arguments. And Jasmine’s from Georgia but that doesn’t count since she moved around a lot.
“But they call it a Boston salad and it has Boston lettuce in it.” I say extremely curious about this salad and its origins.
“I have never heard of this salad before.” Jasmine says patting her lips with a napkin to wipe off her lilac lipstick.
“Here, let me look it up because your phone is too busy crunching NHL salaries apparently.” Greg says sipping his iced tea. “I’m not getting anything. It must just be a renamed cobb salad.”
“Oh okay.” I say a little disappointed but I was at the Cheesecake Factory did I really want to eat a salad?
”All set to order?” asks the waitress coming back with a note pad.
“Yup, I’ll have the Garlic Noodles and the Red Velvet Cheesecake.” I say as I hand the waitress my menu.
________
“Have you’ve ever heard of a Boston salad?” I ask Milan as I microwave my garlic noodles from earlier.
Milan laughs “No Amber I have not, is it something you found on Urban Dictionary?”
I guess it’s not a real thing after all. Well, the noodles were great and the cheesecake was great. No regrets.
“You’re getting me chirped Amber.” Milan says with a playful smile.
“Me?” I ask innocently, I say a lot of things that provides ammunition for the other team. For example what I said to Mike the other day about Carey Price but nothing too bad.
“Yeah Mr. Hilary Duff isn’t too happy with you”
_______
“Who’s your least favorite hockey player?” asks Greg as We watch the Kings take on the Ducks in the preseason. For some reason the crew was now following us to the game, the Kings didn’t mind they wanted all the all the press they could get and I didn’t blame them. They’d probably put Mike on the show too if they knew he was my neighbour.
“Mike Comrie” I reply without another thought and I think I hear Jeff snicker.
“Who?” asks Greg as we watch Kevin Westgarth and Brian McGratten get into a fight near the start of the second period. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of either of them but that’s preseason for you.
“He married Hilary Duff” I explain in terms Greg can understand.
Greg frowns “What has he ever done?”
“His family founded The Brick.” I tell him but Greg doesn’t seem to understand. I clear my throat “Okay in Canada we have this chain of furniture stores named The Brick. Their furniture is so friggin’ ugly it makes me want to throw up.”
“Snob much?” asks Greg as he munches on a jumbo soft pretzel. Wow that looks good.
I rip off a piece of Greg’s pretzel “Honestly it’s so ugly. Like it tries to be contemporary but they use honey wood for their consoles. For fucksake, honey wood consoles!” I exclaim but everyone else in the arena stares at me like I’m the intermission entertainment.
Greg nods, understanding in a way only a fellow interior designer can “I can’t imagine that a train wreck their furniture is.”
“What’s even worse is that the Canadians up north eat it up. Mark my words Greg; part of my mission statement is going be to bring amazing furniture back into Canadian homes.” I say as I watch Mike’s numbers rise and fall dramatically from his heavy breathing in front of me.
_______
“You could totally take him.” I assure Milan “Is he even still playing?” I ask, I actually never remembered him playing hockey ever “I heard he let Hilary Duff’s cars get repossessed.”
“Probably couldn’t afford to keep them after you slandered his family’s cash cow.” Milan tsks.
“I can’t help it if certain things set me off.” Bad furniture is definitely one of them. I hop onto my counter and stab a sun dried tomato with my fork.
“You like to laugh at people’s misfortunes?” Milan asks as I twirl my noodles on my fork. I feel so rude eating when the person I’m talking to isn’t.
I’ll admit it I have a bitchy side but like Tina Fey said ‘Bitches get things done’ “Only when Mike Comrie probably grew up in a giant mansion in Edmonton while you and I basically came from nothing.”
CNBC did a whole report on it after my comments on last week’s show. Apparently The Brick has tried suing me for defamation but the cute lawyer we finally got around to hiring told me not to worry about it. It’s because of Freedom of Speech and that my opinion that their furniture is ugly is just that; my opinion.
“Enough about me,” I take a giant sip of Jones Soda “Is there something you want to show me?”
“I believe there is.” Milan says as he open his hand. Right there in the palm is a ring the size of an unshelled walnut.
“It’s amazing Milan, I’m so proud of you and you deserve every single diamond on that ostentatious ring.” I tell him as I put my bowl in the sink.
“I’m proud of you too, International Interior Decorator of the Year 2007-2011.” I watch as Milan stares down at the notes he wrote on his hand “and recipient of the Three 2012 Primetime Emmys for Outstanding Main Title Theme Music, Outstanding Reality Programing, and Outstanding Music Composition for a Series. Are these even real categories?” Milan asks and I don’t blame him. I used to think that the Emmys only gave out best actor/actress awards but apparently they had like hundreds of awards that they didn’t even show on air.
“Aren’t we quite the power couple?” I tell Milan with a smile. “So who wrote that flattery speech for you?” He wasn’t doing a very good job at subtly looking down at his hand and I could see the blue writing on his hand.
“The Wives and Girlfriends. They can’t wait to meet you.”
“Great,” I say trying not to let the nerves of one day being judged by a room full of women get to me.