The next day, Jim waited until it looked like he wasn't busy, and sent Dwight email, which simply read "URGENT MEETING. Hallway. Now." Dwight, upon reading the email, looked over to Jim, who pretended to be deeply absorbed with work. However, Dwight followed the instruction sent to him, and went to the hall outside of the office. Jim followed about a minute and a half after, while Pam was in the bathroom.
"You called an urgent meeting?" Dwight confirmed.
"Yeah, I needed to talk to you."
"About something urgent?"
"Nope, I just knew I couldn't get you to leave the office otherwise," Jim answered straightforwardly.
"What do you want, idiot?" Dwight asked, now a bit aggravated.
"Listen, I just wanted to thank you for defending Pam that day I wasn't in the office, and for talking to her the other day." Jim said, scuffing the ground with his shoe.
Dwight softened. "Simply doing the duty of a sheriff's deputy. But I wish I didn't have to do it for Pam."
"Yeah, me too." Jim agreed. "I'm just so afraid I'm going to lose her again."
"You won't. I promise you."
"Hey, Pam?" Jim asked, stepping over to reception.
"Yeah?" She asked, looking up from her computer.
"Can I take you out to dinner tonight?"
Pam was momentarily taken aback. "Um…sure." She responded, her uncertainty melting into a grin.
"Great...Then it's a date." He grinned back.
Pam sat back in her seat, still smiling. Although she and Jim now knew how they felt about each other, it still seemed unreal to her, knowing she and Jim had a shot at their happily ever after. She was racking her brain to think of what she'd wear. Jim let out a breath as he sat back down, not knowing why he'd been so nervous. The rest of the day passed painstakingly slow as they both anticipated their date.
"So, where do you want to go for dinner?" Jim asked as they walked down to the car at the conclusion of the work day.
"Italian sounds good."
"I know just the place." Jim said, unlocking the car so they could get in.
"Great," Pam smiled, buckling her seatbelt.
"I hope you don't think I'm being corny or anything. I just figured, if we're taking it slow, I want to do it right."
"I think it's sweet." Pam said.
Jim simply smiled, letting the positive energy flow for the rest of the ride back to Jim's apartment.
"Just give me a bit of time to get ready, okay?" Pam requested as Jim unlocked the door to his apartment.
"Sure. I'll make reservations for about an hour and a half from now?"
"Sounds good," Pam said, smiling as she trotted to Jim's room and opened the closet, thumbing through her half. Eventually, she decided on a simple blue dress with small white polka dots. She called out to let Jim know it was okay to come into his room, and proceeded to the adjoining bathroom, plugging in her straightener to let it heat up as she did her makeup, which only consisted of a bit of eyeshadow and a light liner, and a little lipstick. She then started to pull segments of her hair through the straightener, which ultimately left her hair still in loose waves. She put everything away, and went to meet Jim in the living room.
"You ready to go?" she asked, causing him to look up from the TV.
"Wow," Jim said, breathless.
"What?" Pam asked, confused.
"You look…" Jim paused for a moment, searching for the right words. "Stunning." He decided, finishing his sentence.
Pam felt a blush creep it's way up to her cheeks as she smiled coyly, noticing Jim's face of awe. He noticed Pam blushing and smiled.
"Getting cuter by the second, Beasley," Jim said, placing an arm around her as he walked her back to his car.
Pam smiled to herself as she walked down to the car, letting Jim open the passenger door for her before he got into the drivers seat. Her leg was jittering, although she knew she had no reason to be nervous.
"So, where are we going?" Pam asked.
"This little, family owned restaurant off of exit three. It's called Zorvino's."
"Wow, exit three isn't that far from the office or my old apartment. I'm surprised I've never heard of it before."
"It's kind of tucked away and quaint."
"That sounds really nice." Pam said, looking towards him and smiling.
"I thought you might like it," Jim smiled back. "We're here," Jim said after a few more minutes.
Jim was right. The small brick restaurant was at the end of a dead end street, and the active chimney and yellow light coming from the windows made the establishment seem intimate and warm. Jim placed an arm around Pam's waist as they walked in.
"We have a table for two reserved under the name Halpert," Jim said, addressing the hostess.
"Right this way, Mr. Halpert," the young italian woman said, leading Jim and Pam to a snug booth in the back.
"Thank you," Jim said as the hostess gave them their menus and brought them both glasses of red wine, then leaving them to themselves.
"This place is so cute," Pam said, flipping through her menu passively.
"I'm glad you like it."
Pam took a sip of her wine. "That's excellent. I like this place already."
"I didn't know you had such a taste for wine," Jim said, looking up from his menu.
"I took a wine tasting and pairing class in college."
"Really?" Jim asked, surprised.
"I needed the extracurricular credit, and the only other class that wasn't full was intro to puppetry."
Jim laughed. "What kind of school did you go to?" he asked in disbelief of these outrageous sounding courses.
"University of Scranton has a lot more to offer than you thought," Pam teased. "Where did you go?" She asked. She knew he grew up in Newton, Massachusetts, but she never had actually heard where he went to school.
"Temple University in Philly. I think the weirdest class there was History of the Beatles. And that class wasn't weird. It was awesome. Just like the Beatles."
Pam was about to ask Jim another question, but their waiter came over.
"Are you two ready to order?" He asked.
"I'll have the fettuccine with parsley almond pesto." Pam said.
"I'll have the perciatelli with meat sauce and fontina." Jim responded.
"Thank you," Pam said, handing the waiter her menu, Jim following suit.
Likely because they were the only customers in the restaurant, their food was delivered to them more quickly than either of them would've expected.
"This smells so good," Jim said, before taking a bite.
"I never knew you were so passionate about italian food," Pam teased.
"Oh, yeah. I'm really passionate about italian food. In fact, I'm in love with italian food."
She chuckled. They both looked down at the table when they felt a phone vibrating. It was Pam's. She didn't recognize the number, but picked it up anyways, still laughing as she answered it.
"Hello?" She chirped.
"What's so funny, Pammy?"
The chuckle stopped instantly, all the color draining from her face. Pam didn't have to say anything for Jim to know who was on the other line.
"Pam, hang up the phone." Jim said.
"Roy," Pam said weakly, almost a whisper.