“So, you’re working at a paper company in Scranton.” She smiled from behind her straw, he couldn’t help but grin back and nod slowly, awaiting the question. 

“And you have a degree in sports marketing?” Again, he nodded, picking up a French fry and popping it in his mouth. A spot of ketchup fell on his shirt collar without his notice. 

“So, do you just like, really like paper?” Pam let a giggle escape, resting her hand against her cheek. 

“Little do you know, I happen to have a real passion for paper” 

“You do not,” her eyes rolling, 

“No, no I definitely do. I just love paper so much, that selling it every day was my dream, Pam” 

She couldn’t stop smiling at his rosy cheeks, his bangs falling slightly in his eyes, and the way he was fixed on her own face. Her stomach rolled inside, causing a tickling all the way up to her shoulders. She shuddered.

“Oh, are you cold?” He immediately took off his grey suit jacket that was far too big for his lanky frame, “here,” he went to hand it to her and she hesitated. She wasn’t cold, but she was curious about how that jacket smelled, and the way it would feel against her arms. 

She took it from across the table and draped it over her shoulders, turning from side to side, showing it off, cheekily. 

“Very nice, a perfect fit,” he sipped his coke, 

“Tell me about you? I’m sure you don’t want to answer phones forever?” 

Her smile faded a bit, “Dunder Mifflin is just,” she glanced out the window, “Convenient,” 

“Is it close to your apartment?” He gave her a small smile noticing the difference immediately in the atmosphere. 

“Something like that,” she pushed a rogue curl out of her face. 

“Alright- dream job- money is no concern- go” he hunched down pressing her, his eyes squinting. He wanted to know everything he possibly could before the hour long lunch was up. 

Pam felt her cheeks warm up, “I want to be an artist,” 

His eyes widened with interest, “yeah? What kind?” 

“A painter I guess,” she fiddled with her fingernail,  she hadn’t told anyone this. Certainly not Roy. 

“Are you any good?” 

“I dunno,” she fiddled with the ketchup bottle between them, 

“Excuse me,” Jim looked toward the server in the small diner, and she came over to their table, “we’re actually going to need that kids menu—with umm two packs of crayons please,” he gave her a charming smile, the older woman in the apron rolled her eyes and walked to the front of the restaurant. 

“Jim,” her blush had turned to a full on beet red. 

“No, no, I have to know if you’re good or not,” his attempt to be serious was making her laugh all the harder. 

When the paper menu was placed, and the crayons brought over, he flipped it over to the blank side. 

“Alright, draw me,” 

She laughed with embarrassment, “no way, I’ve known you like six hours,” 

“Oh okay,” Jim reached over grabbing the crayons, “too much pressure I totally get it- let me help you,” 

“What are you-“ she fell into a fit of laughter as he grabbed the squeeze ketchup bottle and drew a circle of ketchup on her sheet. 

“Here- I got you started. My face. It’s perfect,” he handed her the bottle, a smirk drawn all over his face. 

Her mouth hung open in shock, “Are you joking?” Pam held her fist against her mouth, trying to stifle a laugh. “Who are you?” the giggles spilling out. 

“Come on, draw my pretty locks, you got this” he encouraged pushing his bangs out of his face, his eyes drifting up and to the side. She felt her stomach jump again. 

She awkwardly held the bottle and with light strokes gave him long stringy ketchup hair, a set of eyes and an elongated smile. She finished with a tie below his head. 

“Where’s my arms?” He balked,

She drew two little lines from his head “better?” 

He grabbed a French fry off his plate, ran it through his “bangs” and took a bite. 

“It’s true,” he said through chews, “you’re an artist. This was perfect” 

She shook her head at him and at the smeared paper menu that was now starting to leaks. 

“We’re never going to be able to show our faces here again,”

“Well I don’t think-“ 

She’d cut him off “Oh crap, it’s time to go back,” she frowned thinking about the last few hours of the day, and then the rest of the evening. The part she dreaded the most these days. 

“Do you maybe want to,” 

She’d forgotten, her engagement ring was on her desk, she’d taken it off that morning to clean it and forgot to put it back on. 

“Oh um,” she swallowed, he turned his head in curiosity, 

“Im engaged,” it sounded like more of a question. 

“Oh,” he coughed, the smile fading a bit, but for just a moment. As quick as it has left and he felt his heart sink, he quipped, “well, we better get back before Michael thinks I quit on my first day,” 

“It wouldn’t be the first time that happened,” Pam gave him a warm smile and followed him out the doors. 

“Well, I have a feeling I’ll be here a while,” he murmured. 

He had no idea how long that would be.