Biz is Biz, usually, anyway p.2

Kojack.
Now, why was that old drone wreck here?
Cara frowned as the lift began to climb. Kojack. Wanna be Newsface long past his prime. Or, was there something else going on beneath that absurdity sporting used sports jacket, weather stained fedora, and extended beer gut.
Kojack was in the club?
The club!?
She frowned and furled her eyebrows. "Aunty's allowed security to grown slack, tsk,. tsk."
Still... Kojack must have sniffed up something, but the who and what? Cara sighed and crossed her arms, growing annoyed. The sometimes lucky freelance news hound better keep to his side of the alley or she'd...what? Disgust rolled up into Cara's stance. The elevator doors slide open, drawing the attention of several of the kitchen staff. both blinked.
Ignoring them, Cara drew in a deep breath, and took the time to comport herself a bit instead of simply charging ahead.
Wisely, they all ignored her, mostly, anyway.
Family... nothri in the ancient tongue that everyone's still pretending isn't some long lost, suddenly found, fully developed and complex language. Cara caught herself wandering again and rolled her eyes. No, no time for that drek! She needed to speak to the Lady and meant to do so.