Sam comes back just then, waiter hovering politely in the background. "Sorry for the wait," he said, "but apparently they'd overbooked." Off Vicky's worried look, he smiles, squeezing her shoulder. "Don't worry, they've got a table for us." He offers his arm. "Shall we go in?"
Vicky shakes her head. "You go ahead," she tells him. "I won't be too long." Sam glances curiously at Emory, before shrugging. "Don't be." "I won't, old man," she teases, kissing him on the cheek. "Now go. Before they give our table away." "Yes, ma'am." He throws her a salute, before disappearing off with the waiter.
Vicky watches him go, before turning back to Emory. "My husband, Sam," she says. "I hope you don't mind me waiting with you? I'm sure your daughter won't be long."