Love Me [Jim Halpert]

Eighteen

CASINO NIGHT

It was Friday, the most anticipated day of the week. Michael sat in his office chair with the camera in front of him, "Tonight the Scranton Business Park is having Casino Night and we are converting our warehouse into a full-blown gambling hall. And I know it's illegal in Pennsylvania, but it's for charity." He lifted his shoulders . "And I consider myself a great philanderer. It's just... It's nice to know, at the end of the day, I can look in the mirror and say, 'Michael, because of you, some little kid in the Congo has a belly full of rice this evening'.  Makes you feel good." He smiled, proudly.

~

Outside the main office, Jim strolled into the bullpen, briefcase in hand, he greeted his coworkers with a smile as he made his way to his desk, ready to start the day, "Hey, Belle, you ready for casino night?"

Isabelle looked from her to-do list to Jim with a grin, "Oh, you bet! I've been practicing my poker face all week." She nodded, enthusiastically.

"The eyes are key," Jim said, his smirk widening. "Gotta bluff without giving it away." He took a seat at his desk.

"I'm a master bluffer." Isabelle bosted, gesturing to herself, trying to hide a smile.

"Okay, Torres, we'll see about that," Jim teased as he watched Dwight ambled over to the sales department, looking surprisingly sharp in a suit and tie. "Excuse me. How long is the wait for a table for two?" He signaled to Isabelle and himself.

Dwight narrowed his eyes, "I would never, ever serve you. Not in a million, billion years." He muttered through his teeth.

"Nice suit, very bold," Isabelle mentioned, examining the outfit.

"I know. It belonged to my grandfather. He was buried in it, so family heirloom." Dwight revealed to the pair before seating himself at his desk.

Nearby, the sales department Roy perched up against the reception desk, "So, what's the deal? We gotta pay for our own drinks? That's lame." Roy cocked an eyebrow.

"Come on, it'll be fun, and besides, I'm a roulette expert." Pam encouraged.

"Impossible. Roulette is not a game of skill, it is a game of chance." Dwight piped up from his desk.

"I can always kind of win at roulette." Jim chimed in, keeping his focus on the computer.

"Oh, really?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Yeah. How would you do that?"

"Mind control."

Dwight chuckled, "You can't be serious." He studied Jim's straight expression, his face dropped in realization. "Are you serious?"

"Ever since I was a little kid, like, eight or nine, I could sort of control things with my mind," Jim explained, toying with a pen.