A few months ago, when Jim would make a really big sale, he'd celebrate with the usual mini-bottle of champagne. Pam remembers seeing him slip them into one of his desk drawers and then cracking them out at approximately 5:05 as everyone left to go home
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"I'm kind of in the mood for... Italian," she decides.
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His hand starts swinging slightly with hers as he says, "But you're driving tonight, Beesly."
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With the press of a button, the locks pop up and they get in, but before Jim can buckle his seatbelt she leans in to kiss his cheek. "Proud of you," she murmurs, turning the key in the ignition.
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