Amber's laugh stayed with him as Foreman sat down at their table, making it hard to hold on to his serious demeanour. Glancing around, he didn't see anyone staring at him--but by this point, there was nothing to see, so why should they? A minute later, Amber joined him, her confidence back in place, so that Foreman wondered again if she'd really been upset at all. He smiled up at her. "I still can't believe we got away with that," he said, quietly enough, but not making much effort to hide what he was saying. Now that they were out of danger, he could feel the appeal of the escapade more strongly. He felt like laughing over nothing at all, and his grin widened. Amber might still think it was nothing special, but Foreman felt like they'd pulled the wool over the eyes of a whole roomful of people. He cut his eyes over to the woman he'd thought he'd seen watching them earlier. He didn't know what possible titillation she'd gotten from it--living vicariously, maybe. Keeping his voice more discreet this time, he asked, "Which of us do you think she was watching?"

His embarrassment was still there, but for the moment it was subsumed. Hell, if they could pull this off, they could probably manage to fool House. No--Foreman was fooling himself if he thought that was possible. But who cared? He felt good, and there were hours left before he had to even think about House again.

Their waiter didn't wait long before appearing. He set their plates down in front of them; the food looked like it had been sitting under a heating lamp for too long, which was probably no more than the truth. "Can I get you anything else?" he asked, his gaze sliding from Foreman to Amber speculatively.