Page 95 of Slots & Sticks
Geo freezes mid-punchline. “Is that… you, Cam?” He squints. “Buddy, what are you doing? You don’t leave your ringer on at a comedy show. Hand it over. Respect my art or feed me content. Those are your options.”
“I’ll mute it,” I start, but he’s already holding out his hand.
“You know the rules. You ring it—you wing it.”
I surrender my phone. Geo answers it with an exaggeratedly deep voice. “This is Camden Beck.”
A crisp voice on the other end: “Hello, Mr. Beck, this is Gemelli’s. We’re calling to confirm your reservation for tomorrow evening—two guests at seven?”
Geo’s eyebrows shoot up. “Wow. That flew by fast, huh? Time sure does march right along when you’re emotionally unavailable.”
The crowd laughs. My face burns. I mouthcancel it.
Geo gives me a sly grin. “We’ll be there with bells on,” he says cheerfully.
The crowd roars. I drop my face into my hands.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Geo says, tossing me back my phone. “I worked my ass off getting that reservation for you. If she doesn’t show up, I’ll go. Two dudes, one cheese board, emotional closure. Vegas will write songs about it.”
He keeps the crowd rolling, tossing in a few jokes about dating apps, hockey players, and emotional constipation. I’m half-listening, half-stewing in regret, when the chair across from me scrapes against the floor.
Dot.
There she is. Not just the girl I love—but the one I’d recognize in every lifetime. She could’ve walked into this room on fire, and I’d still know her by the sound of my pulse slamming in my ears.
Chairs scrape. Murmurs rise. The whole room holds its breath.
“Hey,” she whispers. “Can we talk?”
“Uh.” I glance toward the stage. “Now’s… not the best time?”
Geo notices her instantly. “Well, well, well. Vegas, give it up for the plot twist!” He leans toward the crowd. “For those just joining us, that’s Camden’s ex. Or current. We don’t know yet. It’s like a Hallmark movie, but with dimmer lighting.”
Laughter ripples through the room.
Dot blushes, clutching her small purse. “Please, Cam.” She reaches across the table for my hand.
Geo fans himself dramatically. “Oh, this isjuicy. Ma’am, are you trying to steal my spotlight? Because it’s working.”
“Sorry,” Dot says. “I don’t want to interrupt.”
“You already did,” Geo deadpans, and the audience cackles. Then, softer: “Nah, you’re good. You clearly have main-character energy. Want a mic?”
Dot hesitates—but Geo extends it. “C’mon. Might as well tell him whatever you came here to say. Everyone loves a public apology. Normally, a man has to grovel, but in this case…”
“Fine,” Dot mutters, taking the mic. It squeals as she fumbles it. “Sorry!”
Geo to the crowd: “She’s sorry! For the feedback and, I’m guessing, other things.”
More laughter. Then Dot steadies herself, takes a breath, and looks right at me.
“Camden… I know I told you we couldn’t be together.”
A sympatheticohhhripples through the audience. Someone boos.
Dot points at the heckler. “Relax, buddy. My mom just died, my dad’s recovering from third-degree burns, and this guy blindsided me with feelings.”
That earns her applause. Geo claps from the stage. “See? Accountability. I love that for you.”
