“Okay, she was a…bitch.” Pam blushes and looks down as she gets the word out.

“Whoa, did I just hear a swear word from Beesly?!” Jim has never heard her say anything that would earn more than a G rating if it appeared in a film.

“It doesn’t count as a swear word if it’s a statement of fact.” She defends, reddening further.

“Wow, I like this Fancy New Beesly. Speaking her mind and…apartment hunting. It’s a good look for you.” Jim nods appreciatively.

“Why thank you.” She gives a little bow, and it’s dorky and so her, and he just loves her guts.

“Hey, I speak the truth. So,” he pauses to sip his water dramatically. “Speaking of apartment hunting, are your parents coming with you to see these places?”

“Um, no, they both drove back. They couldn’t get off work. But they’re the ones who found me all of the listings, which was great, you know, to not have to deal with that.” Aha! There’s an opening…

“Well, I’d love to come with you,” the corners of his mouth start to lift up before he carefully schools his expression. “You know, in the interest of making sure you don’t get ripped off.”

“Oh, just in the interest of making sure I don’t get ripped off, huh?” Pam challenges.

“Oh, absolutely. Spending time with you would just be an added bonus.” He winks.

“Hmmm,” Pam pretends to take her time considering the offer. “That could potentially be arranged.”

“Okay. Let’s do it.”

“Okay.” She’s smiling full-on, both sets of pearly whites on display.

“So it looks like you’ll be seeing a lot of me this week.”

“Looks like it.”

“I think it’s safe to say that you’re stuck with me.”

“I think I’m okay with that.”

“Well that’s nice to hear, because it would have been true whether you were okay with it or not.” They’re still laughing by the time their food arrives.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“I am so stuffed.” Pam throws her napkin on her now empty plate and slumps down in her seat.

“Too stuffed for dessert?” Jim raises his eyebrows at her.

“Arrrggg.” Pam groans, resting her head on her arms which are crossed on the table. “No dessert for a while. I’m still digesting. That was amazing, but I probably shouldn’t have had so many of your fries in addition to mine.”

“It’s okay. We can always do dessert later.”

“Yes, we can do room service at my place!” She makes air quotes around the word “place.”

He’s not about to turn down Pam’s offer to go back with her to her hotel room. “Nice, I like it, Beesly. I’ll just go flag down our favorite waitress so she knows we’re ready for the check.” He makes to stand up, but she stops him.

“Wait, here.” She digs a credit card out of her wallet. “Let’s go dutch.”

 Jim’s already shaking his head. “Mmmm, nope. Your money’s no good here. Sorry.” He shoots her another wink. And with that, he’s off to settle their check directly at the cash register, before Pam can get a word in.