Neon lights rolled over them as they drove along. It was the only illumination Amber had to see Eric by, but she thought the various crimsons, blues, and golds flattered him. Then again, handsome the way he was, it'd take work to make him look anything less than striking. Amber smiled to herself, feeling lucky all over again, to have run into him.

"Huh.” So it hadn't been her fault she hadn't sucked less than everyone else. "That was pretty smart of him, actually. I just wish I'd known, then I could've gotten part of the cut. At least I'm getting a dinner out of it. We should get the best wine in the house, to celebrate." She winked.

Being a Monday evening in early fall, not many people were lingering downtown: a few students with nothing better to do, businessmen hurried in their suits, and other stragglers. Amber pointed out a spot right next to the restaurant. "Yeah, I have Brennan pegged as a goner. He'll do himself in, if House doesn't fire him first. What about the others? Please tell me you don't like Thirteen." Of all the other candidates, she felt like the biggest threat, with her strangeness. She could have the training of a hot-dog vendor and House would keep her around, if only to keep on playing with the puzzle. As long as Amber got hired, she didn’t really care who filled the second slot—except that she hated Thirteen’s guts, and no way House was hiring two women. If Amber and fate hadn't intervened, all the women would've been eliminated in a single stroke, last week. “No, wait, maybe it’s better you like Thirteen, if House still wants to be contrary with you.”