Through Time She Came

Ch.3 Through Time She Came

She didn't know where she was or how long it had taken her to get here, but one thing was for sure, it left her dizzy.

Anet found herself leaning over a dresser -or desk. Papers, pens, pictures, a cup of cold coffee. Desk. Judging by the photos, she figured she was somewhere in the early 1900's, or else someone kept very old family photos.

"Uuugh..."

Her head was swimming. Her breath shallow. Her arms shaking under her weight. Too busy trying to get a grip, she didn't notice someone coming through the door behind her.

"How was the show tonight, Trixie baby?"
Anet finally snapped to when a string of pearls looped around her and fastened to her neck. Half startled, she turned to face its giver.
"Well, you're not Trixie." He laughed at himself.

Anet was still too boggled to say anything at the moment.

"Name's Thomas. Thomas H. Graft. H for Hotsy-totsy!" He grinned boyishly lending a hand to shake.

Silently, still thinking, Anet shook Thomas H. Graft's hand. His boyish grin widened. He reminded Anet of James Cagney. In character though, this Thomas was dark haired, with piercing blue eyes, and definitely taller than Cagney, but not too tall, just right. Or perhaps he only reminded her of James Cagney because she had just recently watched two of his movies earlier before this whole time travel bit.

"And what's your name, sweetheart?"

Anet opened her mouth to respond. Wait, she thought, what is my name?

She just stood there trying to remember.

Feeling a bit awkward, Thomas went on, "Those pearls look good on you." He leaned against the desk, crossing his arms over his chest. Anet's hand went to the string of pearls. "Keep 'em. Trixie's more of diamonds and rubies gal. I like pearls better on brunettes anyway." He winked at her. "So are you Valentino's new singer?"

Nothing.

"You ain't much of a talker are you, kid?" smile. Those dreamy eyes.

"N-no."

"Say! She does speak. Too bad you don't like gummin', you got yourself a pretty little voice there."

"No, I meant that I'm not a singer."

"A whole sentence! Let's see what more comes out, shall we?" he chuckled. "So how 'bout that name, doll?"

"Anet. Anet Peyton Peters."

She wondered if she should've used her alias.

"Peters?"

Too late now.

"That's a bit of a mouthful. So, Annie, you're not Valentino's new singer, what brings you here to his office?"

"I was here to meet someone," she lied, "while I was waiting I came looking for the ladies' room and got lost."

"Ladies' room is on the whole other side of this joint."

"I've never been here before, I didn't want to feel embarrassed asking where the ladies' room was."

"Understandable." He smiled sideways at her, "Has your date showed up?"

"No... and I don't think he will."

"Too bad for him. If any fella knew their dame was all dolled up like you are tonight, he sure would come running!" Wink. "Say, where'd you get a dress like that anyhow? How's it... stay on? ...Oh. Sorry. Me and my bad manners."

"Yeah, I'll be right out, I gotta make a quick call," a taller man entered the room. Thin mustache. Dark hair slicked back. Black suit. Red rose on his lapel. An air of business and charm about him. He stopped short seeing two people in his office. "Tom. How many times do I gotta tell you to stop bringing your dames—," his eyes fell on Anet, "Well. Hel-lo!" he looked her up and down appreciating the Good Lord's handiwork. "Now who might you be, Angel Face?" he asked as he took her hand in his in a smooth, gentlemanlike manner. His thumb tracing over her fingers.