“A union?” Voran said. He was a handsome man in his mid-twenties: lean with a strong chin, a tanned complexion and thick, dark hair. His eyes were the only reason that Ms. Loveli had assigned him to the kitchen. One was blue, the other hazel. “We shouldn’t even be talking about this.”
“Of course, we should,” Jack insisted.
“At the very least,” Teryl chimed in, “we shouldn’t be talking about it here.”
Well, she was right about that much. One of the managers might walk in at any moment. Never make battle plans in your enemy’s den. He was pretty sure that was a quote from some famous general. If it wasn’t, then famous generals were seriously overrated.
Sitting on the table with her mouth hanging open, Kez shook her head. “You realize they could fire all of us just for speaking the word,”
