On the Line

“All you have to do is sign on the line, darling…”

Nellie studied Al's face for any sign of ulterior motives behind the smile and the pet names… the exact same ones the creeps called her before they took what they wanted. Just thinking about it made her skin crawl! Men always wanted something. What did Al want?

Al slid the contract across the table, his eyes devoid of emotion. Nellie's hand trembled as she reached for the pen. She hesitated. Was she really going to do this? What would he do to them if she signed? What would he do to her if she didn't?

“I understand,” Al said, leaning back in his chair. “Why don't you take a minute to think it over?”

Nellie's eyes darted from the unsigned contract to the clock on the wall. One minute, sixty seconds, one revolution of the second hand. Her heart raced, and her mind kept up at a pace to match. So many thoughts in such a short amount of time…

How did she wind up here? Three short years ago, she was a simple small town girl. Then she met Sam Scanlon, the star of a traveling vaudeville show that just happened to stop at her local county fair. Sam took her under his wing, gave her a job, and brought her out of the small town and into the big time.

Now she was the manager of his act, but the job wasn't all it was cracked up to be. It was all the responsibility of stardom without the respect that went with it. Always tagging along but never part of the band, always ignored at every afterparty, always condescended to by every two-bit theater and nightclub owner in the country…

“Vaudeville is dead,” they said.

“Just another glorified barbershop quartet…”

“What's a little woman like you doing in a big job like this?”

“If I were you, I'd forget all about show business. Find a nice husband to take care of you…”

Nellie didn't know what was worse, the ones who turned her down flat or the ones who didn't. The few who heard her out always demanded something in return for booking Sam's act. That something usually involved her waking up in a strange bed next to a man smelling of cheap cigarettes and bathtub gin. She tried to justify it as a necessary evil. She did what she had to do to get Sam booked on stages, and she owed it to him to make his dreams happen. After all, he rescued her from that miserable small town life…

So why did she feel so trapped?

Tick, tock. Fifteen seconds passed…

Nellie found her way out through a chance encounter. Everyone warned her not to get mixed up with Al Hartman. They said he was trouble. Crookedest sidewinder in the South, they called him. The same people who looked down on Al were the ones who looked down on her, pearl-clutching hypocrites with more dollars than sense.

It started out as a simple business venture, to get Sam's act a spot on Al's show. That was before Nellie figured out his darkest secret. It was all over the morning papers: Nightclub Owner Missing. Was she supposed to believe that a prominent club owner just happened to vanish without a trace? Or that Al just happened to be the last one to see him alive?

Nellie wasn't here to judge. It couldn't have happened to a nicer person, if you asked her! She didn't need to know the how's or the why's it happened. All she needed to know was if Al could make it happen again.

This was bigger than publicity; she wanted payback! Payback for every disdainful look and laugh in her face, payback for every snide comment and unwanted advance… but she couldn't do it alone.

Tick, tock. Thirty seconds gone…

It should be a win-win situation. Nellie got the power to make Sam’s dreams and her revenge happen. Al got all the victims his dark little heart desired, although… calling them victims seemed overly dramatic. The word implied that they were undeserving, but they had it coming, every last one of them. She wouldn’t hand them over to Al if they didn’t. She wasn’t a monster!

Nellie looked up, worry written all over her face. “No innocent people are going to get hurt, right? Just the ones on the list?”

Al laughed. “Innocent is such a… subjective term, my dear. But yes, only the ones on the list.”

Nellie was unsure whether to feel reassured or even more unnerved than before. It sounded too good to be true; it probably was… There had to be a catch somewhere. Who knew what Al could demand in return? Probably no worse than has already been demanded of me, she thought with a soft sad sigh.

Al looked at her with a slightly raised eyebrow, though there was no compassion in his changed expression.

“And that’s all I have to do? I keep your secret. I give you a list of my enemies and leave you to handle them as you see fit. Nothing else?”

Al shook his head. “Not a thing.”

Tick, tock. Forty-five seconds down…

Nellie fixed her gaze ahead. The lights and dials, normally blinking and buzzing along the back wall, were still and silent. Even Al’s smile remained motionless. The only thing moving was the second hand on the clock. Time was winding down…

She looked back at the contract in front of her. If she signed, she signed the death warrants of countless people. If she didn’t, she signed the death warrant of all she and Sam had worked for. No, they had to die for Sam’s dream to live.

Nellie took the pen from Al’s awaiting hand. As the second hand returned to the top of the clock, she put her name on the line and her life along with it.

Al’s coppery eyes glinted. His smile widened so much Nellie thought it would split his face in half. He rose, giving her an enthusiastic handshake. “Pleasure doing business with you, my dear!”

He opened the office door, offering Nellie his arm. “Now shall we celebrate the start of a successful business partnership?”