Pam slipped on the grey beanie she had had since childhood, which her grandmother had embroidered with a red rose when she was young because Pam reminded her of her own sister, Pam’s great-aunt Rosie. It was such a precious memory Pam rarely wore the hat out, for fear something would happen to it. But for today it was perfect, and she hoped to have another family memory to attach to it by the end of the evening. She grabbed her coat and her Secret Santa gift and drove the two hours into work from her parents’ house, dodging the minimal early morning traffic. One positive to living so far out was that she rarely had to deal with rush hour, since she needed sufficient buffer for a long drive.

Another plus was that she got to the office nice and early most days and could get situated without Michael’s interference. She hung up her coat and hat, booted up her computer, and sat down to wait.

The major negative of living so far out, besides the drive itself, was that on mornings like this she had nothing but time to wait. And since what she was really interested in today was after work—like, 2 hours after it—she was going to have to wait even longer. She pulled out the giant book of Sudoku puzzles she had bought after realizing how much earlier she was arriving now that she wasn’t living with Roy and got to work. After a moment she stopped, put back on her engagement ring—she was giving Roy until the end of the week to tell his buddies so she could stop this charade at work—and went back to the puzzle.

At nine Jim came in, greeted her, and headed for his desk. She watched him for the rest of the morning until Michael called everyone together for the office Secret Santa. He really had no idea, and she was filled with glee at the prospect of revealing her prank to him. As well of probably having the opportunity to finally kiss him. A lot.

At the Secret Santa, she was excited to see that Jim had clearly gotten her name, and she was initially disappointed when Michael’s frustration at his own inability to follow the rules caused him to announce that that the Secret Santa was now a Yankee Swap. But her eyes lit up when she realized this was the perfect opportunity to play an extra double prank on Jim. She resolutely chose the video iPod every chance she got, watching Jim sink lower and lower every time she passed on the little teapot. She felt almost cruel, only steeling her resolve with the knowledge that she would make it all better later. When the Swap finally finished, she grabbed Dwight before he could walk off with the teapot.

“Dwight, I just realized, I already have one of these. Would you be willing to trade me for the teapot?”

“Pamela, are you seriously asking if I will trade this $20 teapot for that video iPod?”

“Absolutely I am.”

“Then I accept. This trade is final.”

He grabbed the iPod, shoved the teapot box into her hands, and swept away. She thought she heard him muttering something like “all trades are final” before she turned away and headed back to her desk. She sat down and put the box on top of her desk, waiting for Jim to notice. His head swiveled towards her, his eyes lit up, and he sauntered over.

“So what are you doing?”

“Just checking out my present.”

“I thought you got the iPod.”

“Oh, you know, I decided I didn’t need it all that much.”

“You didn’t need the ability to stream thousands of songs and even movies in the palm of your hand?”

“Nah, my hand can already do that.”

She held up her hand in faux-seriousness.

“Anyway, someone important to me got me this, so I thought I might want to check it out. Seriously, you went to a lot of effort, and it means a lot.”

His smile would have been cheap at twice the price of a video iPod. He beamed down at her.

“Well, either way. This is an amazing gift because it comes with bonus gifts. Look inside…”

She noticed as he enumerated all the little presents inside (how had he remembered that hot sauce? And the Boggle timer?) that his hand snaked out when he thought she wasn’t looking and snagged a little card. “Interesting,” she thought. “There’ll be time to deal with that later…”

“So…” she said as he finished going through the last item with her (seriously, the pencil? How awesome was he?). “I was wondering if you might be free tonight. To have dinner. With me? Around 7?” She smoothed her skirt with her hands, only glancing sideways up at him, her lashes lowered.

His head jerked up. “I’d love to, but, um…actually, I kind of have plans tonight already.”

“Oh. I mean, that’s OK. What kind of plans?”

“Um, I’m meeting a good friend for drinks.”

“Oh, Katy?”

“Ah, no.”

“Oh, I thought you guys were…”

“Well, um, we broke up.”

“Oh!”

“And anyway, we were never that serious.”

“Not serious enough for drinks?”

“No, uh, I…this is different.”

“Oh, sure.”

“I mean, this friend is…she’s special.”

“Oh, it’s a she?”

“…yeah.”

“Is she pretty?”

“Um…”

“No, I was just kidding, you don’t need to tell me that.”

“No, it’s just…I actually don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“Well, we met online, so….”

“And you’ve never met her?”

“Nope.”

“Never made her send a picture?”

“Um, no. It’s not like that. I mean...”

“No, no, it’s none of my business. Well, have fun at drinks. Shame about dinner. I had something I really wanted to tell you.”

“I’ll make it up to you. And you can tell me anything.”

She smiled up at him, a full, broad smile. “I know. And I’m sure you will.”

******

Jim was…to say confused would be a major understatement. He’d been so nervous about today: first, about the Secret Santa, with his card declaring his feelings for Pam tucked in beside the various inside jokes inside the teapot. Then, very suddenly, about this date (she said date, right? he didn’t misunderstand that?) with Morgan that afternoon. He’d watched in horror as Michael turned Secret Santa into Yankee Swap, and then in mounting dismay as Pam repeatedly picked the video iPod over the teapot. He just…couldn’t, suddenly. He couldn’t go on a date (or whatever it was) with Morgan after giving Pam that card. He couldn’t give Pam the card if she was that into an iPod instead of his own gift. He just couldn’t do any of this anymore. He was in complete turmoil about his own feelings, about what he should do about them, about what was happening. Pam still had that ring on her finger; Morgan was single; Morgan wanted to meet him and had said “it’s a date”; Pam wanted an iPod. Then suddenly Pam had the teapot and he had to think fast before she read the card and he ran out of time to figure it out. When he’d put the card into the package last week it had all seemed so straightforward. Now it was all confused again and he breathed a sigh of relief when he snatched the card and slid it into his pants pocket in one smooth motion.

That relief lasted for about ten seconds. Was Pam flirting with him? Dinner??? What was going on here? Why tonight? What was happening to him? He was glad he’d acted on that impulse to break up with Katy when Morgan had suggested they meet. He really wasn’t up to juggling three women in his life.

But was he really juggling Pam and Morgan? Or was he misreading signals? Was she asking him out? But there was still that ring on her finger…what was going on? Damn it, would 7pm never arrive? The rest of the day passed in a blur—smiling at Pam, pretending to work, watching the clock, fending off Michael’s sugar-induced frenzied bouts of activity—and before he knew it it was 5. He picked up his coat, bidding Pam a warm but confused goodnight, and headed home to prepare for his date.

His mind was sufficiently distracted that he never would remember the two hours between heading home and finding himself sitting in the Steamtown Mall Starbucks with a red rose (where had he gotten that from?) sticking out from the pages of his high school yearbook (minus one yearbook picture, of course). Pam. Morgan. Pamorgan. He couldn’t keep the two of them out of his head—or even keep them straight anymore. But he shook his head and focused on Morgan. The single one. The one he’d never met. Who wanted to meet him. Who called this a date for crying out loud. He wished intensely he’d ever taken Pam’s retrospective advice and asked for a picture. She could be anyone. He was sure he’d be interested in her whatever she looked like, but it would help to know what he was looking for. He took to staring at each woman (she was a woman, right?) who walked through the door, hoping to see a red rose. As each one failed to have a rose or look at his, his heart dropped a little further.

It was with real shock that he looked up and saw Pam, in her hat and coat, standing in line to order. As if looking up at her had magnetized her eyes, she turned to him, smiled, and waved. Before he knew it, she was smiling down at him, steaming chai latte in hand.

“Mind if I sit down?”