For the past five days, she’d tried to come up with a way to get out of this, but Mike had backed her into a corner. As long as she was responsible for Toby, she couldn’t afford to have Mike blackball her in the community, something he was perfectly capable of doing. He was a big man outside, but inside, he was small and petty, and he had years of practice manipulating people to do what he wanted.

“We have to go to church because of the way you act so mean to Big Mike,” Toby said. “I’ll bet he thinks you’re going to hell.”

Already there.

Just then Mike’s red Cadillac pulled into the drive. She still couldn’t figure out the best way to warn Toby to keep his guard up. “Mike’s been nice to you,” she said tentatively, “but … sometimes people aren’t always exactly the way they seem.”

He shot her a look that branded her the dumbest person on earth and dashed out the door, the tail of his plaid shirt flapping. So much for good intentions.

She’d tucked her hair into a fashionably untidy bun to accompany one of the few dresses she hadn’t put up for consignment, a sleeveless caramel sheath she’d accessorized with costume hoop earrings. Her arms still felt bare without her bangles. She’d sold all her good jewelry months ago, along with her two-carat engagement ring. As for her wedding ring … The night Scott had left her, she’d driven to the club and thrown it in the pond by the eighteenth green.

Mike hopped out of the car to open the door for her. She handed him the computer laptop he’d given her. “Thank you,” she said stiffly, “but I’m sure you can find a better use for this.”

Toby clambered into the backseat. The interior smelled of good leather with only the faintest trace of Mike’s cologne. She cracked open a window anyway to get some air.

Mike set the computer in the backseat without commenting. Even before they pulled out onto the highway, Toby started chattering about his bike. When he finally paused for breath, Mike said, “Why don’t you ride it in the Fourth of July parade tomorrow?”

“Could I?” Toby asked Mike, not her.

“Sure.” Mike glanced over at Bree. “We finished work on my float yesterday. This year’s theme is ‘Island in the Sun.’”

“Catchy.” How she’d once loved the way this parade marked the beginning of another magical island summer.

“I always have the biggest float,” he bragged. “Hey, why don’t you ride on it?”

“I’ll pass.”

Mike shook his head and grinned, no better at picking up on social cues than he’d ever been. “Remember the year you and Star talked your way onto the Rotary float? Star fell off the back, and Nate Lorris nearly ran her over with his tractor?”