"I’m sorry…What was the question?" I ask, blinking rapidly. The producer tells me to never mind, and then he and his trusty camera men are off to interrogate the next suspect (or are we victims? I can’t decide. As much as the cameras have disrupted our quaint little lives here at Dunder-Mifflin, I still sometimes wonder how I would’ve made it through some days over the last three years).

Even though they’ve all left, I stay put. I replay that…what, six seconds? Over and over and over…And then I stop thinking. And I’m just sitting here, smiling like some school girl. I take a moment to collect myself; I even pinch myself, just to be sure.

I slip out of the conference room and shut the door behind me as quietly as I can, drawing as little attention as possible. It’s a lost cause, though. Everyone knows. They have to know. Jim’s here, and Michael and Karen aren’t. Phyllis is smiling rather shyly at me, and I do my best to hide this goofy grin. Jim slips from behind my desk and hangs his coat on the rack just as my phone starts to ring.

I slowly walk over to my desk, hoping whoever’s on the other end of this call that couldn’t come at a worse time either gives up or my phone goes to voicemail.

Jim walks by me and flashes me his smug smile. I duck my head, feeling the redness and heat coloring my face. I peer up only long enough to see him raise his eyebrows and wink.

I break into a stride, realizing my phone’s still ringing. There’s a folded note taped to the corner of my computer screen, but after staring at it for a second, I decide it has to wait.

"Dunder-Mifflin; this is Pam." Michael. Is it wrong that I’m not at all shocked he didn’t get the job?

Is it even worse that I am shocked he got considered in the first place?

I’m suddenly reminded of how, if Jim wanted that job, he’d be in New York right now. I’m reminded of the enormous pay-raise he’s neglecting, the personal assistant, the hot-shot lifestyle he’ll never have in Scranton.

And I hope to God that the type of lifestyle he can get in Scranton is enough.

I’m ecstatic that he’s here…I went so long thinking we’ll never speak again, and then I find out I might never see him again, and now he’s here…Across the office from me. This dull, dimly-lit (and sometimes managed) office we call Dunder-Mifflin, Scranton.

He’s here. And I’m not thinking about why, because if I let myself think about that it’ll become less and less real. And I don’t want that. This is real. It has to be. It’s real…right? He’s not in New York, and he’s not with Karen.

I let myself worry about Karen for a minute, staring at my screen and the folded note. I take the note down and place it on the desk, still staring. I don’t want to be worried – not this much, anyway, - about Karen. I don’t know what happened, or how, or anything like that, so I can only hope for the best.

I hope (and I think it’s for the best) she stays in New York.

"Toby!" He draws the last syllable out. "What’s up?" They start talking about Corporate, and how Jim turned the job down. No, he doesn’t think Karen’s coming back. He doubts Michael got the job.

That doubt’s confirmed as I announce to the office that: "Michael’s on his way…As soon as he…" No, it’s not my place to tell them. "Uh, well, he’ll be here later, but we can leave at five."

They shrug it off, chalking it all up to, "Well, it’s Michael."

He peers over at me as I’m sitting at my desk. I have the note in my hand, still folded. I run my fingers over the edges and turn it over, tracing the creases.

Keeping my head down, I glance up at him. He’s holding his conversation with Toby and staring at me. And it’s not a blank stare. He’s not slouching. He’s not holding anything back, and he’s not faking anything. His hazel eyes are shining; he’s got a full-blown smile on his face. Even his ears, sticking out and suddenly more noticeable thanks to a haircut, don’t seem so droopy.

I lift up the note and wait for a reaction. He chuckles to himself and nods. Biting my lower lip, I make sure nobody’s watching. Amazingly, the cameras aren’t even in the room. They’re in the break room, watching Kevin scarf down a box of animal crackers…So I go for it. I slide a finger underneath the seal, and gently open it.