Most of Foreman's summer had been downtime. He'd been job-searching even before he left Princeton, but House's sabotage had made damn sure he hadn't made it through an interview without some sort of interruption. That was, if he managed to keep the appointments he'd set up at all without House cancelling on his behalf. Foreman had gotten fucking pissed off with the constant waiting. Waiting to hear about job postings. Waiting to hear back from interviewers. Waiting to hear if he'd interested the people he'd met with enough that his qualifications--more like black mark, since that's what working for House ultimately was--had put him over the top and into their consideration.

Foreman needed structure. He liked to know how his day was going to go before he got up. Without a job to go to, he'd filled his time as best he could. Since he was starting on Monday, he was stuck again.

He wanted to see Amber. Knowing they had a set date, a time to look forward to, made the hours pass even more slowly. Foreman went home to grab his gear and headed for the gym, where he upped his reps before swimming thirty laps, coming out of the pool shaky with the effort. Middle of the day on a Friday, there wasn't anyone around worth pulling into a pick-up game with his old basketball, so Foreman headed home. He showered, then went out again, this time for food for his apartment--still bare after his second move in under a month--and some preparations for the evening. Then it was simply a matter of working through a few hours, going over articles he wanted to submit and double-checking his research, before he checked the time and started to get dressed. He wore casual slacks and a light sweater under his leather jacket. Nicer than most of Shank's patrons favoured, but hardly fancy. A good compromise.

It was about ten after six when he showed up outside Amber's apartment. Not early, or on time, to make Amber think she was the only highlight of his day, even though she was, but not late, either, as if he'd forgotten her or didn't think she was important. Foreman grinned as he glanced out to her front bay windows. There was a light on inside, and he might have even seen her shadow cross in front of the curtains. God, this. This was what he'd been waiting for. A distraction, but not only that. She interested him, challenged him, and Foreman could do with a little of both. He was already getting in over his head, and that was stupid, dangerous, but Foreman couldn't make himself care.

He picked up the yellow rose he'd bought on his way here. It was damn cheesy, but Foreman found, as he jogged up Amber's steps to buzz her apartment, that he didn't mind in the least.