Not ones she could count on. After Scott left, her friends’ so-called support had been nothing more than thinly disguised attempts to learn the juicy details of her breakup. She spun around to confront him. “I hope you’re enjoying your revenge. You have money and a successful business. I don’t have either one. I’m sure that makes you incredibly happy.”

He pulled on a solemn expression. “Would it make you happy to see somebody you once cared about in trouble?”

She thought of David and Star, how they’d hurt her, how fiercely she’d hated them, and how much she missed them. Pushing their images away, she focused on Scott and his nineteen-year-old hottie. “You bet I would.”

Mike surprised her by laughing. “Whether you want to admit it or not, you need me, so you’d better start acting like a friend. I’m picking you and Toby up on Sunday for church. Nine-thirty.”

“Church?”

“It’s the best place for you to get reacquainted with the locals. But there are some ground rules. Don’t disrespect me in public.” The steadiness in his fool’s eyes alarmed her. “Don’t make fun of anybody in the congregation, not even if some of them start talking in tongues. And if Ned Blakely shows up with his snake and starts quoting from the Bible, you’ll be polite. Church here isn’t what you’re used to in Bloomfield Hills, but this is Charity Island, and people worship with their whole hearts.”

Tongues? Snakes?

Mike smiled, not one of those unpleasant smirks she remembered, but a big smile. At her expense. “I’ve got to get this truck back to Hank Jenkins. I’ll see you on Sunday. Oh, and if you decide not to go, I’ll pass the word that you want to be left completely alone.”

“I do,” she said fiercely.

“Are you sure about that?” He was still smiling, congenial. “Winters are long, and people here only have one another to depend on if they drive into a ditch or run out of heating oil. Or if their kid—a kid like Toby—gets sick and has to be taken off the island.” He rubbed his chin. “You should be careful what you wish for, Bree.”

Blackmail. She wanted to throw something as he walked away, but she’d never been a thrower or a screamer. She’d never been much of anything except a mediocre student and Scott’s cheerleader.

After Mike left, she retrieved the wheelbarrow and the quilt she’d been using in her display. Only then did she see the present he’d left for her, the one he’d said would help her with her business. Not Skittles or Lemonheads. Mike Moody had stepped up to the major leagues. His current form of bribery was a new Mac notebook computer.

Chapter Thirteen