It was a good thing that the Rock’n’Rolla had settled back into the well-run machine it was most of the time. When he’d stepped off the elevator into the lobby after two on Friday afternoon, it looked like several busloads had hit Laura and the new front desk clerk at once. A nice cross-section of Elvis fans had cluttered the lobby. Some waited in line to check in. Others were having mini reunions hidden by the lush foliage. And every man, woman, and child waiting to check in was decked out for the occasion. It was like the scrum in front of the gates to Disneyland before opening, except instead of Mickey on T-shirts and Minnie ears and Goofy hats, there was Elvis, Elvis, and more Elvis. Willodean would be sorry she missed it. These were her people. Misty had retreated to her pink bed behind the front desk with a beleaguered sigh but she was quickly sawing logs again. Tony had smoothly stepped in and rallied the troops. Sam and the guys on duty at the door had jumped in and soon Tony was handing out hotel keys to rooms that he’d just cleaned with the most distracting toilet scrubber he’d ever met.
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