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As soon as Jim explained the situation with Chloe and Ellie, the mood shifted. It amazed him how at one moment he could have a fairly intense conversation with Pam and the next, they would be sitting close together in the park, enjoying a comfortable silence and finishing the remainder of their lunch.
"So, come on. I've told you something about me, now it's your turn. You have to tell me something about you."
"Wow, how old are you again?" she laughed as she brushed a few stray crumbs off of her lap.
She tugged gently at their joint hands, but Jim just squeezed back in response, not letting go. Pam looked up at him and smiled, resting her hand back in its original spot.
"Twenty five."
"Okay smarty pants... let me think." She moved slightly, sitting on Jim's jacket, with her legs tucked neatly under her. "Oh, I have something. This was a couple of years ago though so you can't judge me too much, okay?"
"I promise," he grinned, moving his free hand behind his back and crossing his fingers.
She laughed as she leaned back to look behind him. "You know I totally just saw what you did, right?"
"Damn. Does that mean it no longer counts?" he teased, bringing his hand back around and resting it on top of his outstretched legs.
"Do you not want to hear my story?"
"No, no, I'm sorry. Go on."
"So, like I said, this was a few years ago and I was still dating this guy Roy at the time. The crappy little apartment I lived in didn't have a washer or dryer, so I used to take my laundry back home to my Mom and Dad's. I don't know why, but one day I just thought to myself, 'you know what, Pam. You're twenty-two years old, you need to be more independent - you need to take your laundry to the Laundromat.'"
"Wow, that's deep, Beesly."
She shushed him playfully before continuing her story. "So I get there and throw everything into one of the washers, load it up and go take a seat while it... does its thing. All of a sudden, and I'm not kidding, there's water everywhere. I couldn't get it to stop pouring out of the washer. At this point everyone is looking at me and I have no idea what to do. This old lady...I think she worked there... starts yelling at me in Spanish and I'm freaking out. Apparently the door was jammed or something and it just wouldn't open or close."
Jim chuckled a little as he listened to Pam explain one of her most embarrassing moments to him. "So what happened?"
"They managed to yank the door open, threw all of my wet clothes into a bag and told me not to come back..."
"No way, Beesly. You've actually been banned from a Laundromat? That's pretty badass stuff. I'm impressed!"
********
It was quiet in the car on the way back to the office, but Jim was okay with that. He was lost in his own thoughts and the silence was strangely comforting to him. The atmosphere was entirely different from earlier that day; something electric and exciting had replaced that awful feeling that had previously encompassed them. He was pretty sure that she had also felt the shift in energy between them.
His hands loosely gripped the steering wheel, tapping lightly to a beat that could only be heard in his head. He turned slightly to look at Pam, briefly smiling at her before he returned his eyes to the road. All of a sudden the Knight Rider theme song filled the car.
Pam threw her head back against the headrest and laughed. "Please tell me that isn't your ringtone? Oh my, God! You're such a dork."
"I'll have you know Pam, that Knight Rider was a classic in the 1980's. You should really show some respect," he teased as he patted the pocket of his pants and then the breast pocket of his shirt in search of his cell phone. "Shit, where did I put it?" he cursed as he began looking on the floor and in the cup holder next to him. The car swerved a little as Jim continued to reach one arm under his seat trying to locate his phone.
"Okay," she giggled uneasily as she reached over and grabbed the steering wheel. "You need to pull over because otherwise you're going to kill us."
He sat up and concentrated fully on the road in front of him. He signalled to switch lanes and pull over at the side of the road. "Sorry about that," he apologised, biting his lip guiltily. "Okay, seriously. Where is it? I could hear it. I know it's not lost."
Pam unbuckled her seatbelt and turned around in her seat so that she could lean over and have a look in the back. "I think it fell out of your bag."
Jim turned his head to see what she was doing and his eyes wandered straight to her butt that was now directly in front of his face. He could feel his cheeks getting hot and looked away. "Got it," she smiled as she handed over the now beeping phone. "You have a voicemail."
"Thanks," he replied as he checked the called ID to see who had called. "It was my mom."
"Aren't you going to listen to it?"
"No. I'll just call her back. Is that okay?" he asked, having already pressed speed dial, bringing the phone up to his ear.
"Don't worry, it's fine."
"Th..." he held up his index finger as he heard a voice on the other line. "Hey Mom, you just called. Is everything okay? Yeah, he should be in her crib...Okay, try my bed because I brought her in with me for a bit this morning... No, she woke up at about five... Mom, I know that." Jim rolled his eyes as he looked at Pam and mouthed an apology. "Did you find him? Good. Yeah, I know, she won't sleep without him...all right. I love you too. I will be. Okay, bye." He snapped his phone shut and tossed it in to his lap. "Sorry about that, we had a bit of a stuffed animal emergency," he explained sheepishly as he pulled the car back on to the road. Ellie can't sleep without Rawr."
Resting her head against the window she asked, "Rawr? What is Rawr?"
He looked over and teasingly shook his head, "Isn't it blatantly obvious what Rawr is? Rawr's a lion, Pam. A big scary stuffed lion."
"That's so sweet. Did you name him yourself?"
"No," he laughed. "My four year old nephew was given that job. And it's really cute because Ellie has started to say his name whenever she sees him." It felt so good to finally be able to talk to someone about his perfect little girl that was waiting for him each night when he got home from work. He hadn't realised just how much he wanted to share all of the little things about Ellie that made his heart swell with pride.
"Well, he was very creative."
*****
They pulled into the Business Park's parking lot and Jim exited the car quickly, surprising himself by walking around to the other side and opening Pam's door for her. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so chivalrous, and from the look on her face, he figured it had been a long time since anybody had treated Pam with that sort of respect. That got him thinking. Had Pam's previous boyfriends opened doors for her, or pulled out her chair when taking her to a fancy restaurant? Okay, what am I doing? He thought to himself. Why am I even thinking like this? I'm not her boyfriend; I shouldn't be comparing myself to them.
The elevator dinged at their floor and they hastily made their way towards the glass door leading to their office. They stopped suddenly when they both reached for the door handle at the same time. Their fingers touched and he was sure his hand was on fire. Her cheeks reddened and he knew he was blushing too as he felt the heat creep up over his collar. Standing back with an outstretched arm he nodded his head, indicating for her to go first.
As he hung his suit jacket on the coat stand, he saw Dwight in his periphery, standing up and crossing his arms in disgust. "Well, well, well. Look who decided to come back to work? You're tardy. It makes you both look lazy and unprofessional and I'm going to tell Michael."
Pam sat down at her desk and logged on to her computer. "Sorry, Dwight."
"It's okay, Pamela. I accept your apology. I also know this is very out of character for you to behave in such a way."
Jim turned to Pam and tried desperately to suppress the smile that was threatening to appear on his face. "I'm sorry too, Dwight," he apologized.
He shook his head, "I do not accept your apology, Jim. I may not have known you for very long, but I have an incredible sixth sense about people like you."
"A sixth sense?
"Yes, Jim. Are you too stupid to know what that is? I don't believe you can be trusted. You're devious."
Pam could be heard from behind her desk trying to control her laughter. A couple of snorts escaped, which Jim noted he'd have to tease her about later.
"Well I don't know what to say, Dwight. If you won't accept my apology..." he said, walking over and throwing his messenger back over the back of his chair.
Dwight bent down so that he was face to face with Jim. "I'm warning you now. Do not try and corrupt the receptionist because you will fail. I'll be watching you," he told him as he stood up and barged into Michael's office without knocking.
*****
Jim replaced the handset of his phone and began filling in the necessary paperwork for a sale he'd just completed.
"Hey, I got you a soda."
He looked up and saw Pam standing next to his desk. "It's Grape Soda you like, right?" she asked.
It wasn't until that moment that he realised just how thirsty he was. "Thanks. How much do I owe you?" he asked as he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and held out a dollar bill.
She turned and began making her way towards the break room. "Nothing. You bought lunch."
He followed quickly and took a seat across from her. "Yeah, but I kind of owed you lunch, so that doesn't count."
"Well, think of this one as a... just accept the damn drink, okay?" The corners of her mouth twitched slightly as she tried to stop the smile from forming as she spoke.
"Well, thank you. So hey," he anxiously cleared his throat before continuing, "I don't feel like we got to finish our conversation at the park today. I didn't know if you'd maybe want to... you don't have to of course, but if you'd like to come over one night. We can order a pizza or something."
"Oh, urm."
"We could order from that place on Wheeler, that's near me."
"You mean Cousin Johnny's?"
"Yeah, I think that's it, why?"
"Jim. Have you ever even tasted their pizza? Let's just say I'd rather eat the box it came in."
Gently spinning the can on the table in front of him, he raised his eyebrows. "Okay, so how about you come over, we order pizza - but you can choose where from?"
She paused for a moment, "Sure. I can do Wednesday, if that works for you?" She smiled.
"Then it's a date...I mean, not an actual date-date, but like friends having dinner," he stuttered.
"Right, friends having dinner."
Twisting the tab off of the can, he looked up at her awkwardly. "Right. We are friends, right? I'd say we are."
He could tell she was nervous by the way she was fidgeting in her seat and repeatedly sliding the charm of her necklace along the silver chain around her neck. In the short time that he'd known her, he'd already memorised the random little things she did in various situations. He'd noticed that when she was bored she'd pull the sleeves of her cardigan down over her hands and wrap her arms around herself. He hasn't the first clue as to why she does it, but it's now become so familiar to him that it's almost a comfort to him to see her do it.
"That sounds really good."
All of a sudden the door to the break room was kicked open by a disgusted looking Dwight. The door slowly swung back, narrowly missing him and nearly ruining his dramatic entrance.
"Do you not listen to anything I say, Pam? He's brainwashing you and you're letting him."
Jim couldn't stop the laugh from escaping any longer, and Pam followed shortly afterwards. "I am your superior, Jim...MICHAEL!!!" He shouted, darting out of the break room and towards Michael's office when he realised neither of them were listening to him.
To Be Continued.
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