Amber stiffened, though she maintained a frozen smile. Unique. She really hadn't thought of that up until now. Eric had been so undeniably novel and unparalleled, a whole new paradigm in her relationships, that there'd been no one to compare him to. She'd more or less assumed she was the same for him. That what they had somehow meant more. Was special. It was a good point, though. On their first date-- supposed one-night stand-- Eric asked if she wanted to know about his exes. He'd had his share. What was the first time to her might be part of this "boring" routine House kept referring to. And it’d been only less than a week, what had ever made her think she was in any way special, compared to the others?
When House said she wasn't the first to get sleep with Eric to get to him, Amber didn't know whether let her insides knot itself up or to laugh. So she compromised, smirking even as her stomach clenched. Worked to emphasize the wry humor reaction; sleeping with Eric as a ticket to House, now that was laughable. It’d have been so much easier just to show up on House’s doorstop with nothing but a quickly opened trench coat. "Just because it's been done before doesn't mean it won't work." She hadn’t completely abandoned the implications this was all about sleeping her way to the top.
House’s reference to that girl, it was concrete, not ambiguous like his other hints about Eric. It sounded like something that could be backed up. Amber could ask Eric about her. It’d be simple enough. And what did it matter, he wasn't with her, or any other girl, now. That was in the past. Hopefully.
Fuck. She'd let one bit of herself slip past her shell, and now House was corroding into the rest of her. Amber couldn't even afford not to come closer, tilting her head so as to hear his suddenly soft words. He harped again about what "Foreman" thought. Amber prickled with annoyance. House kept saying that almost as if Eric had gone up to him and admitted that the woman he was sleeping with-- her-- was just about ready to jump into what bed afforded her the most rewards. House was doing it only to bother her; he must've read in her reaction that the thought disturbed her. But she believed Eric believed her. None of what had happened yesterday would make sense if he didn't.
(The problem was-- no. She wouldn't. It was just a job. Eric was unique, even if he'd been through these feelings with other girls before. Jobs were many, Eric was one. But-- to win-- wouldn't Eric understand? No. This wasn't bullying a carnival clerk into given her toys for "the sick children." It wasn't the same. It wasn't a choice, at all. But how long would this job experience last her, fortifying her resume? And how much longer would that be compared to the time she could expect-- want-- to be with Eric?)
Amber drew a sharp breath. She couldn't let House get anymore to her. He was only taking advantage of her own confusion; close off access to that and he couldn't do any more harm. "You seem to know a lot about Foreman; you're making me jealous." Amber's tone regained the more playful, sensual tone from before. "Do you have a special interest in him, or do you keep a close eye on all your employees?"
no subject
When House said she wasn't the first to get sleep with Eric to get to him, Amber didn't know whether let her insides knot itself up or to laugh. So she compromised, smirking even as her stomach clenched. Worked to emphasize the wry humor reaction; sleeping with Eric as a ticket to House, now that was laughable. It’d have been so much easier just to show up on House’s doorstop with nothing but a quickly opened trench coat. "Just because it's been done before doesn't mean it won't work." She hadn’t completely abandoned the implications this was all about sleeping her way to the top.
House’s reference to that girl, it was concrete, not ambiguous like his other hints about Eric. It sounded like something that could be backed up. Amber could ask Eric about her. It’d be simple enough. And what did it matter, he wasn't with her, or any other girl, now. That was in the past. Hopefully.
Fuck. She'd let one bit of herself slip past her shell, and now House was corroding into the rest of her. Amber couldn't even afford not to come closer, tilting her head so as to hear his suddenly soft words. He harped again about what "Foreman" thought. Amber prickled with annoyance. House kept saying that almost as if Eric had gone up to him and admitted that the woman he was sleeping with-- her-- was just about ready to jump into what bed afforded her the most rewards. House was doing it only to bother her; he must've read in her reaction that the thought disturbed her. But she believed Eric believed her. None of what had happened yesterday would make sense if he didn't.
(The problem was-- no. She wouldn't. It was just a job. Eric was unique, even if he'd been through these feelings with other girls before. Jobs were many, Eric was one. But-- to win-- wouldn't Eric understand? No. This wasn't bullying a carnival clerk into given her toys for "the sick children." It wasn't the same. It wasn't a choice, at all. But how long would this job experience last her, fortifying her resume? And how much longer would that be compared to the time she could expect-- want-- to be with Eric?)
Amber drew a sharp breath. She couldn't let House get anymore to her. He was only taking advantage of her own confusion; close off access to that and he couldn't do any more harm. "You seem to know a lot about Foreman; you're making me jealous." Amber's tone regained the more playful, sensual tone from before. "Do you have a special interest in him, or do you keep a close eye on all your employees?"