"A few," Foreman said. Most recently my own. He didn't feel like sharing that, though. If he told her he'd left the hospital, she'd wonder why he was back, and Foreman wasn't about to explain the situation with Dr. Schaffer, getting fired and then blackballed, and how he'd basically been busted down to a fellowship position after his brief stint as department head. As much as he'd like to brag about his accomplishments, he doubted she'd be impressed by that. "Avoid the lemon cake," he said instead. "There are lawsuits pending."

It was easier to keep the conversation casual. At this point, Foreman would much rather listen to Amber talk about herself than explain his situation. "How long have you been here?" he asked. He glanced over at her, grinning speculatively. He was sure she was a doctor; what a lot of people would call arrogance, he saw as confidence. Nurses usually showed it slightly differently; more like an unavoidable competence, like being run over by a steamroller. Amber's was a more haughty self-assurance, and Foreman found himself drawn to that. Too often he'd been called conceited and self-important simply because he didn't let anyone forget it when he was right more often than they were. Amber probably heard the same sorts of things, if not worse. "Should I be trying to guess your specialty?" She looked around his age, so she'd probably come to Princeton-Plainsboro for a fellowship. Foreman had been away from the hospital news (and Chase's gossip) for long enough that he didn't know which departments were hiring, but with a few hints, he thought he could figure Amber out.