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“Thanks,” I say, moving to the refrigerator to grab the creamer. I pour a little bit in the cup and place it back on the shelf. “The coffee’s good.”

“I like strong coffee, and I know you do too, so it wasn’t a hardship to make a full pot.” Lyric shrugs. “Are Fig and Ji up?”

“Fig is.” I don’t explain the detail of the drool—or whatever it was—that was dried on his cheek.

“Okay. I’ll start making breakfast.” He takes out a carton of eggs, a loaf of bread and a pint of milk.

“What kind of breakfast?” I glance over the rim of my mug and hide my smile.

“Does French toast sound good?”

“No hardy Korean breakfast?” I ask with a wink.

Lyric chuckles, his eyes sparkling with happiness. I like seeing him this way. “I’m not sure if you’re ready for it.”

“I’m always ready and always willing.” I waggle my eyebrows.

He narrows his eyes at me. “I doubt it, but that’s for tomorrow. And you’re not going to be here, so enjoy the French toast I’ll be making.” Lyric says no more as he pulls out spices.

“That’s sounds good to me,” Fig announces as he walks into the kitchen. “Coffee?”

Lyric points to the coffee pot.

“Good morning,” Ji says as he lumbers into the room, looking more haggard than Fig. His eyes dart first to Fig and then it’s almost as if he forces them to look at Lyric.

Now what’s that about?

“There’s coffee.” Lyric grabs a bowl from a cabinet, starts cracking eggs into it and then adds a splash of milk and the spices.

There’s a long space of silence as I glance at Lyric, who is focused on what he’s making, then turn my attention back on the two other men in the room. Fig is drinking his coffee and staring out the window. Ji has his back turned away from my bodyguard while he sips coffee from his cup.

“What’s going on between you two?” I stare at Fig.

At first, he avoids my question by taking a seat at the kitchen table. Then he finally says, “Nothing,” with a shrug.

“Not nothing. You two look like you’re avoiding each other,” I explain, bouncing my gaze between them. “Did something hap⁠—”

“Like Fig said,” Ji blurts out, cutting off my question, “there’s nothing going on. Mr. Kim, can I take a shower?”

Lyric nods. “Again, Ji, please call me Lyric. And of course you can. I’ll grab you a towel.”

Ji follows Lyric out of the kitchen, which leaves me alone with Fig. “Now tell me the truth.”

“Drop it, Rafe.” Fig stands, heads to the coffee maker and refills his cup.

“Do I need to fire Ji? Are you two having issues?”

Fig stiffens and eventually meets my eyes. A frown mars his face. “No,” he says sharply.

“Then tell me.” I hate to use leverage, but I will if I have to.

Fig groans, placing the cup onto the table. “We had a disagreement last night. We argued. And eventually worked it out. It’s not what he wants, but it’s too damn bad.”

I’m confused at Fig’s explanation. I want to ask for more detail, but from the way Fig is grinding his back molars, I think it’s best to leave it alone. If he said that they worked it out, then I’m not getting involved.

“Okay,” I relent.

“Good.” Fig picks up his cup, heads to the back door where Lyric came in from, and leaves without another word.