Page 75 of Backhanded Compliments

Luca shuffles back out of the bathroom, carefully tiptoeing as she pulls on the first hoodie and pair of shorts she finds. Juliette should be exhausted and dead to the world, but Luca still gently clicks the door closed. She wanders up to the roof, desperate for some fresh air. It’s late, past four in the morning, and abandoned. The night is a heavy ink curtain, but there’s a gentle ocean breeze.

Luca slides into one of the many loungers and curls her legs into her chest, pressing her cheek against her knees. Her stomach curdles as she tries to weave through the complicated mess of emotions boiling in her gut.

Once again, Luca knows so much of what she’s feeling is informed by her worry about being hurt. But Luca can’t deny that something has shifted between them. Whether they admit it or not, Juliette cares about her. From checking in on her during sex to bringing her snacks and talking about her fears, it soothes some of the nagging anxiety that Luca usually lets rule her life. Juliette is hersoulmate. Even if Juliette doesn’t value that as much as Luca does, she decides she can trust in that.

Luca lifts her head and stares at the lightening sky. Soft pinks spread out from the silhouette of Miami’s skyscrapers. She uncurls her legs and heads back to her room, more clear-headed than before.

The air-conditioning chases away the heat and humidity from Luca’s skin as she steps back into the lavish room. Her phone buzzes on the table, and she snatches it up. Half past six in the morning.

There are about a dozen missed calls from Vladimir.

Confusion and panic ribbon through her, and she clicks on one of the many missed call notifications without listening to the voicemails.

Vladimir answers on the second ring. “Luca?”

“What’s wrong?” she asks, sinking onto one of the couches.

“Do you happen to know where Juliette is?” Vladimir asks calmly.

Luca chews on a hangnail, debating how to answer. “Yes, why?” she asks finally.

“Is she in your room?”

Luca glances at the closed door. “Yes. Why? What’s going on?”

Vladimir sighs, and then in English says, “Antony Ricci called me and demanded to know where his daughter is.”

Luca winces. “Yikes.”

There is a bit of muffled yelling, and Vladimir sighs heavily into the phone. “I have a very angry Antony at my door because apparently, Juliette never told her family she made it to Miami. And her father accused me of sleeping with Juliette,” Vladimir explains far too calmly in Croatian.

Luca chokes on her tongue. “What?”

“Anyway, once I assured him I was not having a secret love affair with his daughter, we tried to figure out where she was or if she was kidnapped.”

Luca drops her head into her hands. “Oh, God.”

Vladimir pauses. “You don’t have to tell me, but why is Juliette in your room?”

Shame clogs her throat. “I’ll get her and send her down,” Luca says, her voice strangled. She doesn’t want to explain.

Vladimir hums. “Okay. Let’s go for breakfast down by the water. Karoline told me about an excellent place.” He sounds too normal, and Luca coughs over her nearly hysterical laugh.

She slowly gets to her feet. “Sounds good.” She hangs up and pushes open the bedroom door.

Juliette is sprawled like a starfish in the middle of the bed, still completely naked, and beautifully golden among the ghosts of white sheets.

Luca pauses, not wanting to disturb her, but she knows she has to. She pads over to Juliette’s side and sits down, gently shaking her leg. “Jules?” She flicks on the bedside lamp.

Juliette barely stirs, lost in a deep slumber.

“Jules, you have to wake up now.” Panic laces through Luca. What if Antony Ricci comes up to her room and demands to see his daughter? She would rather not confront him now. “Please, wake up.” Fear digs its talons in, and she clenches her fists.

Antony Ricci is not Luca’s father.

Juliette twists over and wraps an arm around Luca’s waist, half dragging her down. Luca yelps, caught off-balance, and Juliette plants a sloppy kiss on her cheek. “Time for round two?” she asks into Luca’s ear, her voice husky.

As much as she wants to curl into Juliette’s side and pick up where they left off, her anxiety threatens to swallow her whole. “Jules, you have to go.”

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