Adele hadn't noticed her card missing, but she had damn well noticed the effects of the rumors flying around — rumors of the hotel being sold to their most recent guest, Sebastian Croft.
Small clusters of staff were whispering about it in the lobbies and hallways, each wearing a look of fear, worry and doubt. And it was all understandable, especially with the sudden presence of the President, Timothy Hastings. But it was interfering with work, and Adele wasn't one to allow anything to interfere with her job.
"What's going on here?" She demanded as she crossed over to the front desk, her eyes peering deeply at the girls behind the counter and the two bell boys across it. Their spine stiffened at the sight of her. "What are you all talking about?"
"Good morning, Ms Rothschild."
"Good morning, Ms Adele." They nervously greeted.
"I know the morning is good, but what I asked was what you were all talking about."
