Pam sneaked into the washroom as the evening began to wear her down a little. She wasn’t used to getting so much attention, of being appreciated so much- even Roy had shown up for god’s sake, nope, she wasn’t used to this!

And the one kind of attention she could use never really walked in through the door, and honestly, she had even given up on the hope now.

She fixed her side pony in the mirror, only to find Isabella exiting one of the stalls.

“So, how’s the artist doing?!” Isabella beamed in a cheerful voice. When Pam just laughed, Isabella continued. “You have done so well today, Pam! You should be proud. Come on now, we should go out and celebrate after.”

“Izz, I am too tired.”

Isabella glared at her; she knew quite well that physical fatigue was so not why Pam was backing out.

Pam gave in under her stare and sat back on a small bench next to the hand-dryer. “I really thought he’d show up, you know”, she muttered, almost to herself but loud enough for Isabelle to catch on. She settled next to her and put an arm around her shoulder.

“I know, and it sucks. But this, what you have done today, it’s so much bigger Pam. You have been waiting for this day, been working so bloody hard for it. And this is only the beginning. Come on, you deserve to celebrate today.” When Pam simply nodded at that, Isabella nudged her. “Also, kid you not, you look quite sexy today.”

Pam laughed, nudging her friend back. “Thanks, Izz”, she said, rolling her eyes.

“I am dead serious. Now come on out there and live your day.” She gave a quick squeeze and left, knowing Pam would need a moment.

Pam smiled as her friend left and got up to take a look at herself in the mirror.

I do look good today.

She had straightened out her hair and slicked it into a neat side pony to look professional, and that gave her face a nice framing. He little diamond studs sparkled against the dark tones of her outfit. The purple turtleneck and the body-hugging black tunic gave her a very chic look. Pam quickly retouched her makeup, putting some lip gloss and a light layer of blush, twirling her charm necklace as she stared at her reflection.

Izz is right. This is my day.

She went out and spotted a small gathering around her stall. Her mother came up next to her, pulling her in a huge hug. “I am so proud of you, baby.”

“Thanks, mom.”

“And that tunic looks great on you.”

Pam laughed. Yes, she was still a kid who took outfit advice from her mom. They both looked at each other smilingly for a moment, and Pam could see that her mom was about to ask about Jim but decided against it- and Pam was so thankful for that.

“So, what’s your plan after?”

“I think I will go out with Izz and people from the office”, Pam answered, sighing even as she said this. Her mother gave her a last hug and said goodbye.

Pam turned back to her stall, and Oscar met her with enthusiasm. “Your stall is crowded, Pam. Congratulations!”

“Thanks, Oscar. Where’s Gill?”

“He’s at your stall, he loves your work.”

“That’s so sweet”, Pam said, tucking a bit of hair behind her ear. “I’m glad all of you came. It feels so good.”

“Oh come here, I want you to meet someone!” With this, Oscar dragged her towards the bar.

**

Plans of having an elaborate meal with Karen to keep his mind away from all the dangerous thoughts had worked well for Jim until desserts arrived and Karen decided to ask a few questions before plunging into her chocolate cake.

“So why did we skip the art show today? Everybody from the office is there.”

Jim could feel Karen’s eyes on him as he simply shrugged in response, twirling his spoon around his mint and vanilla ice-cream.

“Jim?”

He couldn’t remain silent forever. “I just didn’t feel like going”, he said, with another noncommittal shrug.

“And why not?”

He knew Karen could be very persistent. “Oh come on, Karen. You know why.”

“No I don’t. All this week you have been telling them that you are moving on, that what we have is great, that…”

“Well that’s true, I mean didn’t we just have a romantic meal together?” Jim could sense the exasperation creeping into his voice, knew that he was again testing Karen’s patience, but this is the last thing he wanted to talk about right now.

“You make it sound like a task”, she muttered, and then sighed. “Jim, I just want you to be honest with me. We are in this together.”

This is what made Jim feel absolutely pathetic about himself, of how amazingly understanding and helpful Karen was, and yes, she deserved his honesty, but how could he give her that when he wasn’t able to make sense of his own feelings?

He could try. “Listen”, he said, looking her in the eye and lightly taking her hand. Her eyes were bright and hopeful. “This thing with Pam, it was huge, and I shifted because of that and everything, but above all, she used to be my best friend. And that’s not there anymore. It can’t be. So it’s weird, you know? To be at stuff which is important to her. It doesn’t have anything to me being hung up or anything.”

This was largely true, Jim told himself, if only he ignored the fact that when it came to Pam, the friendship and the love had never been two separate things; somehow, around four years back, Jim had become best friends with the woman he loved and had fallen in love with the woman who was his best friend all at the same time, but this was not something he or Karen had to go into right now.

Karen nodded. “I guess that makes sense.”

“Thanks.” Jim bit back that huge sigh of relief and went back to his ice-cream.

Just then their phones beeped at the same time, and that only happened when there was a text from someone from the office.

Yes, it was from Oscar, and Jim knew before he even read the message that this evening was turning out to be the exact opposite of what he had planned.

Poor Richard’s, 11pm, Pam’s art show after party- drinks NOT on her!

Karen immediately looked at him. “Come on, we can definitely go for this. We anyway didn’t drink with our dinner.”

Jim fought back the urge to run away from everything. “Sure, let’s go.”

**

Pam stood at the bar, and looked at the small group at her art stall. There was Gill standing with another man; while Gill, as usual, looked at the paintings with a deeply focussed eye, the other man was roaming his eyes all over the wall as if trying to make sense of it. He had a small smile playing on his lips that Pam found oddly amusing. He was quite tall, she noticed, almost Jim’s height.

“He’s straight”, Oscar whispered to her, “and single”, he added, with a huge smirk.

Pam could imagine herself turning red at being caught checking out a guy, and quickly defended herself, “I was not…um.”

“Oh come on Pam, don’t be silly. We wanted him to meet you. He’s a friend of Gill’s and Gill thinks he would be great for you.”

Before Pam could even protest, Oscar was calling Gill and his friend over to the bar. Pam silently wondered when had Oscar and Gill become her wingmen. Then she thought they were definitely better than having Kelly in that position.

“Pam, Pam, Pam, wonderful work. I am becoming a fan, I believe. Slowly but steadily.” Gill greeted her with a fancy kiss on the cheek, “and may I add, you look beautiful.”

Pam grinned. It was always flattering to have Gill fawn over her like an elder brother. “Thanks Gill, you are too sweet.”

“Oh, and this is my friend”, Gill quickly moved to reveal the tall guy. “Paul Bernard.”

Paul smiled at her, and Pam easily shook hands with him. He had a warm, inviting smile. “Bernard, eh?” She couldn’t help herself and a little giggle escaped her lips. Before she could explain herself, Paul cut in. “Oh yes but I am in no way related to the guy serenading at the sandwich table there”, he quipped, sharing a look with Oscar as they looked over at Andy surrounded by a group of old ladies.

Pam laughed. “Good to know. So how are you liking the show?”

“Um”, he said, moving a little closer and running his index lightly over his brow. “I have to admit, I have only checked out your work, and I was quite floored.”

“Oh come on! Did Gill tell you to say that?”

Gill quickly drew back and announced, “I have no doing in this. Let me tell you Pam, this guy here is a little bit of an artist himself.” Pam saw Paul laugh and duck his head from the corner of her eye. “Anyway, we will leave you kids to it.” Gill and Oscar smartly exited, and Pam began to get a little awkward- she hadn’t done this in ages, except that stupid blind date Kelly had taken her to, and this Paul guy looked way out of her league.

But Paul was quick to bat the awkward silence. “Can I get you a drink? I am sure you have been neck-deep in work all day.”

Pam appreciated how he didn’t straight away get to flirting with her, and thought that if nothing else, she could surely find a friend in him. God knows that she needs one.

So they both took glasses of red wine and Pam suggested he could check out the other stalls as well. “So, what’s with you being an artist?”

Paul laughed, and Pam noticed his laugh was like a 10-year-old boy in contrast to his middle-aged, demure exterior. He was wearing faded jeans, but a checked green shirt under a dark black sweater gave him a very mature, polished look. His hair was slightly wavy, and Pam willed herself to not think of Jim’s hair while noticing how his hair similarly turned around his nape and above his ears.

“That’s just a cruel, cruel joke that my friends have going around. I wanted to be an artist, and somehow thought that would be a good reason for me to study architecture, and now I am city planner.” He ended with a light, playful bow.

“That’s quite a life story”, Pam said, feeling at once comfortable at how he humorously talked about his life.

“Yeah, so now I am a failed artist and a failed architect.”

“But a service to our nation, eh?”

Paul grinned at her, and Pam felt his eyes completely on her for this first time and felt a little strange. Well, he was good looking, and she was a woman, and this the first time in eons that a handsome man was looking at her appreciatively, who was not her fiancé or her best friend, who was not a creep, and who seemed genuinely interested in her.

Wow, I had almost forgotten what it was to simply date with no emotional baggage. Maybe this is what Jim is feeling with Karen. And this Paul is quite sexy, isn’t he?

“But I have to tell you”, Paul was saying over his glass of wine, “I wasn’t kidding when I said I was floored by your work. I mean, that for a debut is amazing. And reminds me of why I can never be an artist.”

Pam laughed, warmed by how he wasn’t complimenting her art just to hit on her, like many guys (including Roy) had done during the evening. They soon found a spot to sit down and finish a second glass of wine as Paul told her how he had previously been working at Indiana before he moved on to freelancing around Chicago, and had now moved to a company Philadelphia only a week back. He had known Gill from a designers’ convention in New York a few years back, and as he was currently posted in Scranton for a project, he was renting out a floor of Gill’s apartment as a paying guest.

Pam hadn’t realised how immersed she had been in her conversation with Paul until Isabelle interrupted them, informing the duo that they all had decided to head to Poor Richard’s to celebrate. Soon everyone was carpooling as Isabelle helped Pam pack her stuff. Paul swiftly came in to help her lift some stuff, and she offered to drive him till the bar. As Isabelle gave her a wink from across the parking lot, Pam slipped into the driver’s seat, thinking that maybe this evening has turned out better than her expectations.

**

As Jim pulled into the parking lot of Poor Richard’s, he saw a huge group assembled around the empty space next to the entrance and instantly recognised them as people from the office; there was definite howling and hooting.

“What is going on?” Karen laughed, looking over Jim’s shoulder as he parked. “I guess we missed out on a fun night.”

Jim gave a short chuckle. He had been mentally cursing his already cursed destiny on the drive back, wondering how he is ending up in that once place tonight which he wanted to avoid by all means. But then he told himself that this wasn’t the art show, it was simply a Poor Richard’s hangout and only if he took it easy, maybe it won’t be so bad. Maybe after a couple of beers he could ask Pam how it went, and get all of this off his chest.

They tentatively walked towards the circle, and wiggled their way into it from between Stanley and Kevin.

“Jimbo!” Michael cheered. “Right on time. Would you like to compete as well?”

“Compete in…what, Michael?”, Jim asked, the usual smirk playing out on his face as his eyes met with Pam’s- he couldn’t help this habit. She was laughing lightly, clearly amused by whatever the hell was going on here. It was dark, the lot was poorly lit, and he could only see half of her profile facing inwards, but he noticed her hair was open and straightened out.

“They are doing a dog-in-the-bone match with a beer bottle”, Oscar explained, evidently not pleased by this turn of events. “Loser buys everybody a round of beers”, he deadpanned. Before Jim, or anybody else could rationalise with this, Dwight and Andy were almost wrestling wildly in the middle of the circle.

“Okay, cut it out guys!” Jim tried, but neither of them were in a mood to give up, and suddenly the bottle went flying in the opposite direction of Jim and his eyes instantly shot up as he registered that to be the direction in which Pam was standing.

“Pam, look out!” he instantly called out, even before anyone else could register the flying bottle.

Jim saw Pam duck, a hand coming in front of her face and pulling her away from the circle as the bottle landed on the ground next to her, missing her by an inch.

Jim’s eyes passively registered the hand then go around Pam’s shoulder, his own heart rate slowing down a little to find her unhurt, but as Michal’s curses and Andy’s apologies drowned the cool late night air, all Jim could see was a man he had never laid eyes on before ushering Pam inside as she fixed her hair with one hand, the other lying lightly on this man’s waist.

Karen had to nudge Jim twice for them to move with the rest of the group and head inside the bar.

**

Pam had completely forgotten that an office broadcast message would go to Jim and Karen as well, and was even more shocked to find out that they actually showed up.

So he cannot come for the show, but he can come for the after party?

Pam hated how petty her thoughts became when it came to Jim, but even before she could really do something about them showing up and foiling her attempts of having a perfectly fine night-out, there was utter commotion and in no time a glass bottle was coming flying at her.

As Pam ducked in reflex, she heard Jim’s voice call out her name in panic; Pam instantly knew that long after the commotion has died down, much later in the recesses of solitude thought, that faint voice of Jim calling out her name in sheer panic, worry, almost longingness, would haunt her.

But in that moment, the more immediate worry took over as she felt herself being spun into Paul’s arms as he drew a hand in front of her just as she heard the bottle crack a foot away from her. Pam felt dizzy from the suddenness of it all, and felt a little tinge as Paul’s arm remained lingering around her shoulder as they walked back, only to realise soon later that she had her own arm on his lower back.

Pam blamed it on the dizziness.

Inside, Poor Richard’s was louder than usual, and as Paul narrated to Pam a story from his first day of work in Scranton, where a man on the panel had insisted that someone like Paul who had never smelt the coast in his entire life could not plan a damn city, Pam felt the light beer and happiness and giddiness and nervousness washing over like in a high school date, even as she remained acutely aware of a pair of amber green eyes fixed upon her from across the room.

She did not dare to look back. Pam popped open another beer, focussing on Paul’s unfamiliar but novel honey-brown eyes as she told him about the girl from her art class whom she hates.

***