Foreman laughed quietly. "I told you, I don't know. I barely met her." He let out an easy exhale, settling closer to Amber as she fiddled with his suit jacket. "I promise to analyze our conversations for her weaknesses, if we ever have any." Thirteen wasn't who he was interested in discussing, after all. He was more intrigued by Amber's competitiveness, now that she'd admitted it was there and he'd seen it in action himself. Maybe House's game was the way that would get the best out of her, but Foreman wondered if she'd work well on a team once House was finished pitting them against each other. He also wanted to know if her drive to be the best, to fight everyone standing in front of her, ever got in the way of Amber's ability to live her life. It wouldn't be unusual; Foreman wasn't blind to the fact that he hadn't had much of a life because he'd been so busy focusing on his career.

Well, they were here now, even if they'd been talking about work. Foreman leaned forward and brushed a kiss across her lips, gently, but not so lightly that he didn't feel a quick shot of excitement. "You'll do great," he said. "House might be insane, but he's not stupid." Foreman pulled back slightly and met her eyes. There was nothing to back up his reassurance, except his own assessment that Amber was an excellent doctor, and that she worked well in the differentials. Whether House would see that, or whether that would be enough, was still up in the air, but Foreman was certain that Amber was at least the equal of all the others. It might come down not to how good she was, but to House's whim, and there was nothing any of them could do about that.

"Come on, let's eat." He settled his arm around her waist and headed for the restaurant, pushing the door open for both of them. He asked the maitre d' for a table for two, and they were immediately led across the room--not much business on a Monday.