"So you're going to put responsibility for one of his hideous traffic cone jackets on me? I always suspected you hated me, but this, this just confirms it. Oh, the stab of betrayl!" Omega grabs his chest melodramatically and threatens to fall off his chair.

And then he laughs, and sits up. "Well, I don't want to make any promises, but this new place is offering substantially more."

Omega isn't getting promoted, not without getting a certificate at least. A degree would be better. But Delta doesn't need to know about that. Certification in drywall, for example, takes a week off work, at least, costs a couple hundred dollars. It's not worth fifty cents or so more an hour.

And if he is going to make everyone to sacrifice so he can go to college, it's not going to be for a two year degree in "construction site management."

"Besides, you don't know how these places work. They'd rather fire someone and train a newbie they can pay half as much."

He tilts his head at Delta's fingers. "What are you thinking now, sparkles?"