After a shower and another new outfit, courtesy of her pre-filled wardrobe, Vivienne made her way out of her room toward breakfast.

It had been a long time since she hadn’t needed to worry about where her next meal was coming from, or had to count pennies to buy as little as she could in order to save for the next meal.

She walked into the dining area, her mind still on Quick.

Damn him.

She wished she could shake him from her thoughts, but that would be no easier than shaking him from her emotions.

She stopped at the doorway, surprised to see people at tables and browsing a buffet line.

Yesterday when she’d arrived, she’d almost begun to think the island was nearly uninhabited, despite all the buildings.

Today, there were people here.

At the nearest table, a group of ladies looked at her and smiled.

One was quick to get up and approach.

“Hi, Miss Devereaux.” The lady wrapped her in a big hug. “We’re so happy you’re here. We were worried what was going to happen…” she paused, “… to the island, until word got around that you’d arrived.” The woman pulled away, but kept her hands on Vivienne’s arms. “I’m Chantal.”

Chantal turned to the table. “And these are Suzanne,” a brunette waved, “Maddie,” another woman raised her hand, “and Eeka,” a porcelain-skinned beauty smiled. “We’ll let you get back to breakfast. It’s great to meet you.” And just like that, Chantal hurried back to her chair.

Vivienne was shell-shocked with the friendliness. Not to mention the swiftness and brevity of the greeting. She never got a word in edgewise.

Plus, she wasn’t used to people coming up and touching her, much less holding her in a hug. Maybe it had happened before her parents died, when she lived at Graylands, but definitely not since then.

As she made her way toward the cereal counter, others around the room called out and waved.

She smiled and returned the waves, getting up the nerve to say good morning in return.

The comfort and camaraderie in the room surprised her. She was welcomed by these folks—wanted, even. They liked her even though she was a stranger who could ruin their lives with one real estate transaction.

The thought broke her heart.

Could she really do it? Could she handle it? Silly question, but could she keep this place going without running it into the ground?

She knew nothing about running anything.

She needed to find Quick. This was a question for him.

After asking Chantal where his office was, Vivienne followed directions, hiking the stone path to the side of the main building.

She entered without knocking.

A man rose from behind the desk. “Miss Devereaux. I—we—good morning. Wasn’t expecting you so early.”

“I was looking for Quick.”

“He’s out and about, on the island. Can Maze help?”

Maze, the one who’d walked her to her suite when she arrived. Quick’s righthand man.

“Sure.” She gave him a smile.

He picked up the phone, and Maze was at the door almost immediately.

“Good morning,” Maze said. “What can we help you with?”

She smiled. “Can we talk privately?”

“Absolutely.” He stepped back, holding the door and motioned her down the hallway. He led her to an office with his name on the desk placard, closed the door behind her, then took a seat.

“Would you like me to call Quick? He’s doing his morning rounds. He can be here in a couple.” He picked up a phone.

“No,” she said. “I don’t want to bother him if he’s working.”

Maze nodded and replaced the phone on the base.

“Actually, I think it’s you I should talk to.”

Maze’s brows lowered. “Anything I can do to help, just ask.”

Vivienne had many questions, many matters she didn’t understand about Skull Point. But what she wanted to know about most was Quick. She spent so much time with him and had so many questions about him.

“What can you tell me about Quick? Is that his real name?”

Maze sat back, fidgeting with a pen, clicking it obsessively.

She wanted to yank it out of his hands after a few moments.

He was obviously uncomfortable with her question. “I’ve called him Quick since we were—young. He’s just quick. Quick to defend, quick to help, quick to step up. He’s a man of action, doesn’t like politics much, and treats everyone fairly. He’s one of the best men I’ve ever met.”

“So, you’ve known him since you were kids?”

Maze steepled his fingers and rested his chin on them. “His mother took me in more times than I can count when my old man beat the hell out me. When she was killed, we both lost someone special. Adriana saved us when she took Quick on as if her own.”

Whoa. She didn’t expect that. He lost his mother at a young age. And her aunt took Quick in, but also helped out his best friend.

Vivienne found herself more than ever wishing she could’ve met her aunt. She could have used a family member like that.

Maze continued. “Now he runs the island, for the most part.”

Ah, yes. She recalled this from her and Quick’s discussion. “Right, he takes care of the operations, running of the business and everything.”

“Well, not everything, obviously,” he said.

“Not everything?” she asked.

His eyes narrowed again. “He can’t do magic. Only you do. You open the doors, cast enchantments or spells, keep the island under control…”

Hell.

She really was required to use magic. She was okay using it to open another portal to find Tiko, but more?

No wonder Quick was so shocked when she said she didn’t do magic anymore.

Oh, damn.

How stupid could she be? This was so not good.

“Miss Devereaux?” Maze said.

She popped out of her self-imposed embarrassment. “Yes, sorry, Maze. Vivienne, please. Just remembering something dumb I said earlier.”

He smiled. “I’m sure it was fine. You haven’t quite wet your feet yet. The paperwork you got from the lawyers can’t cover everything.”

“That’s for sure,” she said. Like how completely magic the island is.

Maze tilted his chair down hard, startling her. “Are you referring to that part about Quick’s bio?”

“Which part?”

She didn’t even remember there being a bio about Quick. How’d she miss that? She thought back to Wolph calling him infamous. What did that mean?

His face reddened. “Just know one thing—”

She waited while his jaw worked.

“Quick isn’t a murderer. That kill was justified.”