Glancing down at the gift she'd left, George let out a groan. Oh, she was a bad girl. He stashed the present out of sight and raised a hand to the waiter.
"Sorry," he said to the waiter, "my friend isn't feeling too well. The food was excellent," he added in a hurry, "it's this... anyway. Could we get the rest to go, please?" The man nodded and disappeared.
While George waited for him to return with the check and the boxed food, he drummed both hands on the table. His mind was jumping ahead to where they could go that was close enough and yet private. A cupboard didn't sound terribly romantic...
He was jolted out of his reverie by the check, and he dumped far too much cash. Grabbing the bags of food, he started toward the front doors.