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

I didn’t sleep a wink last night in my 1600 square feet Oriental Suite. Instead I took a shower, changed into the complementary robe and ordered room service steak frites while watching a marathon of 30 Rock on the TiVo. But not even Liz Lemon’s awkward antics and my freshly scrubbed skin could cheer me up. Every time I thought about the two of them in their cozy North End apartment it made me want to burst into tears. They were just so … comfortable together. I sigh as I take one last sip of my orange juice.

I open up my door to place the empty cup next to the plate smeared with ketchup and steak sauce. As I open the door I see Milan standing in the hallway looking pensive.

“How long have you’ve been here?”

“Not that long, can I come in?” He asks holding out a Dunkin’ Doughnuts bag like a peace offering.

“Sure,” I reply opening the door up for him even though I’m not sure I even want what’s in the bag.

“What the Presidential Suite wasn’t available?” Milan asks walking into the hotel room that’s large enough to throw a party for 150 people. Actually no it wasn’t, not that I needed the extra thousand square feet, but spending money always makes me feel better. It wasn’t because I liked receiving new things, it was because letting go of my hard earned cash was like getting rid of baggage.

“What’s Dunkin’ Doughnuts?” I ask Milan who actually looks really surprised. Must be an East Coast thing like how In-N-Out Burgers are a West Coast thing.

“It’s kind of like Tim Horton’s only American.” He says taking a seat on one of the chairs in the dining room.

I bite into the chocolate doughnut. The first doughnut I’ve had in a while. “It’s really good,” I tell Milan.

“I’m glad you like it, I remember in Vancouver how you always order the Chocolate Walnut Cake Doughnut at Tim’s.” Milan pauses as if to select his words carefully “do you feel better?”

“Not really” but I’ve overcome the shock now I feel a little numb, maybe I would’ve felt better if I had some sleep.

“I have something that should cheer you up.” Milan says handing me a pass even though my name is the only pass I need to get past the velvet rope since the first episode of Decking Out Tinseltown aired. God I sound like Greg

“I need some clothes.” I tell Milan “Where can I go shopping?” I only have two outfits since New York was supposed to be a one day trip. Neither one is exactly subtle and demure.

“You can go shopping right here Amber.” Milan says. I’m not sure he understands the Mandarin Oriental is nice and all but I don’t want to go to a hockey game in clothing from the gift shop.

“What do you mean?” I ask

“You’re in the Back Bay, you have every designer boutique that you can get in Los Angeles within a one mile radius.”

“Like Vancouver?” Another thing I liked about Vancouver was how I could walk everywhere from Coal Harbour. I hate driving around in LA. There’s a reason why the rich buy planes; it’s so they can avoid the traffic.

“You do realize that the Mandarin Oriental is also connected to the Prudential Center?”

“Isn’t that in Jersey where the Devils play?” That must be one long tunnel.

“No, well sort of but this one is a mall.”

“Great,” I say pulling on my Gucci color block dress from when Milan invited me to dinner at his house during the summer.

Milan looks a little guilty as I pull on my faithful strappy silver Louboutins “Um Amber, I’m not allowed to go out during game days.”

“So?” I’ll just go alone, no biggie.

“So I can’t go shopping with you but don’t worry you’re not going to be alone.” This wasn’t going to end well.
_____

Amber Li was even prettier in person if that was possible. She was even pretty when she looked like she wanted to rip your head off. It was like a “What Doesn’t Belong” picture when she was standing in our apartment with more designer labels on her body than on the cover of this month’s Harper’s Bazaar. There was nothing about her that didn’t scream Hollywood so I had no idea what she was doing in Boston. I knew she and Milan were dating now but I never took her for someone who just hopped on a plane and came to Boston for a surprise visit. But those Hollywood types were always a little crazy weren’t they?

She’s a lot skinnier than she looks on TV, almost on the verge of looking sick. But there are also a lot of other things that could make her look like she wants to throw up.

When she’s standing next to Milan he looks more like her body guard. Random patrons in the lobby are even taking pictures of Amber on their phones. She really commands an audience because it’s not every day you see Amber Li.

“Hi I don’t believe we’ve had a formal introduction my name is Ambrosia Li but everyone calls me Amber.” She says looking tired but a thousand times friendlier than yesterday.

“I’m Brittany Carnegie” I say shaking her hand. Amber offers me a genuine smile and pulls out something from her cobalt blue Birkin bag. From what I’ve seen on her show she has one in every color of the rainbow.

“Is there anywhere you recommend?” Amber asks as a map of Boston appears in her hands.

“I’m not really sure.” I tell her as she scans the map.

“Saks?” I nod I’m not the one going shopping “Great I want to see how my collection is doing.”

“It just launched yesterday right?” I remember seeing her on the Today Show promoting Ambrosia Li for Saks.

Amber nods “I’m so excited,” she genuinely gushes as we walk into the Prudential Center.

“Wow,” I say as we pass the window display. It’s Amber in several different ball gowns as she poses with her furniture. “The furniture looks really great.” I offer not wanting to admit that so does she. I wished that Milan’s new girl wasn’t so different. She’s so different from who I’d expect Milan to date in high school. She seems a little high maintenance.

“Thanks, maybe you and Milan could take some back to the apartment.” She offers seemingly unaware of the laws of physics involving a 900 square foot 2 bedroom apartment.

“What do you think of these jeans? I don’t have them yet.” Amber asks holding a pair of Stella McCartney’s against her miniscule waist.

“You don’t really look like a jeans girl.” It’s true, she doesn’t even look like a pants kind of girl.

“You’d be surprised.” Amber says pulling a pair of jeans off the top of the pile. Size double zero, of course.