The next time Pam ventured into the Comedy Roasters, she was disappointed not to see Jim there. It had been all she could do to make sure her mom didn’t come with her (she had been dropping hints all morning about how she could really benefit from some caffeine, and also from meeting this boy who was making her daughter smile so much, but Pam had finally been able to pawn her off with the excuse that she would really like her mother to meet Jim in a neutral territory, so to speak). So it seemed fundamentally unfair that after all that work Jim wasn’t even there.

Yes, Michael was entertaining in his own sweet way as he did his best to imply that Jim had confided in him with waggling eyebrows and a wide grin. And the tea was delicious, now that she actually had time to sit and drink it: yes, it was mostly a basic set of options she could have bought for herself at any half-decent grocery store, but there was something oddly luxurious in letting someone else prepare it for her, even if that someone else wasn’t Jim. Tea tasted better when it wasn’t drunk in stolen moments after a quick microwave.

Maybe the British people she’d seen online were less wrong than she’d thought when they said tea shouldn’t be made in the microwave. Though to be fair, they probably also wouldn’t have approved of the spigot off of the old-school coffee machine that Michael had installed next to the brand new espresso makers.

“Some of our clients are old-school,” he explained when Pam expressed a question as to why the two-burner diner-style clunker was taking up space. “They really prefer the orange handle for the decaf and the black for the real stuff, if you know what I mean.” Pam was fortunately quite inured from Jim’s descriptions and her prior experience to Michael’s desire to make even the least reasonable things an innuendo, so she just rolled with it. It was actually kind of endearing, if you thought about it from the right angle. Michael really did want everyone to get what they needed out of the coffeeshop, even if it was completely duplicative of what he already had.

“And here’s one of them now!” Michael grinned and bounced up and down like a little kid waving—it was nice to see he didn’t just do that to perform for her—and Pam turned around to see a smiling older woman and what Pam judged to be her husband making their way to the front counter.

“Michael!” The man stuck out a hand. “How’re the GEs treating you?” He pumped Michael’s arm enthusiastically. “Cold and tight, I’m guessing?”

“That’s what she said!” Michael was a little too excited to say that, given the sentence he was replying to, but Pam wasn’t going to be the one to point it out.

“Hi, I’m Phyllis Vance.” The lady was still smiling. It seemed infectious, so Pam smiled back.

“Pam Beesly.” She nodded at the man who was now slapping Michael quite hard on the back while talking about energy efficient refrigeration. “Your husband?”

“Oh yes. My little Bobby.” Apparently saying his name drew his attention, and Pam was quickly introduced properly to “Bob Vance, Vance Refrigeration,” before he eventually turned his attention back to talking shop with Michael. Evidently he’d supplied the fridge at the front where the milk and other creamers were kept, as well as the ones in the back for keeping supplies cold. “Michael here bought the top of the line,” he added, “though I still think for your space, maybe the Samsung…anyway.” He shook Pam’s hand again, almost absent-mindedly. “Nice to meet you. If you ever need a fridge, you tell ‘em Bob Vance sent you.”

He laughed a little too much for that, and Phyllis took pity on Pam and explained. “My Bobby handles all the new accounts himself, so you’d be telling him he sent you himself.”

“Oh.” Pam laughed as the penny dropped. “I’ll make sure I do. What was the name of your company again?”

“Vance Refrigeration. Bob Vance.” And with that, apparently, Bob Vance, Vance Refrigeration was out of conversation about anything except fridges themselves, which he mercifully turned on Michael instead of Pam.

“Phyllis!” Whatever awkwardness might have ensued between Pam and Phyllis was dispelled by the arrival of the person she was most looking forward to seeing in the world. “How’s my second-favorite customer?”