Page 77 of Backhanded Compliments

“What are you doing here?”

Livia sets her phone on her knee and dumps a handful of Skittles into her palm, letting them rattle around as she frowns at them. “I came with Dad,” she says, as if that explains anything.

“What about Claudia? Octavia? You’re supposed to be in London,” Juliette says, trying not to expose her frustration.

Livia finally looks up at and acknowledges her with a blink of her big brown eyes. “You need Instagram photos.” Juliette groans and slumps into the love seat opposite her. “Miami is the perfect place for new ones. We go to the boardwalk every year.”

“No, you go with Claudia every year.” Juliette lifts her sweaty hair off her neck and twists her curls around the hair tie. She desperately needs a shower, but with the prospect of Livia dragging her into the crowds, she’s willing to procrastinate.

“Okay, well, she’s in London, so that’s not going to happen. I already have enough content forherInstagram.” Livia plucks two yellow Skittles and shoves one in each cheek. “Want some?” She holds out her bag.

Juliette leans forward and watches the artificially colored candy land in her palm. “No red?” she asks, disappointed and a little suspicious at the probability.

Livia looks sheepish. “I ate them already, sorry.”

“The world is so cruel to me,” Juliette bemoans, tilting her head back and tossing all of the Skittles in her mouth, mostly to watch Livia’s horror as she chews them all together.

“So, are you taking me to the boardwalk or not? You could bring Luca.”

Juliette jerks and nearly chokes on the Skittles. Livia smirks at her.

“Why would I want to bring her?” Juliette asks, coughing to clear her throat.

Livia raises a singular brow in question. “Well, considering how you came to Miami early to spend time with her, I thought you might want to, you know, spend time with her.” Her words are pointed.

“How do you know that?” Juliette demands, her stomach churning. If Livia knows, who else does?

Livia sighs, exasperated. “Keep up, Jules. I know everything.”

“Everything?” Juliette asks, and Livia nods.

“Just ask her.” She stands up and crumples the now-empty bag of Skittles.

Juliette clears her throat. “I don’t think Luca would be comfortable with that. There are a lot of people on Miami Beach.”

Livia tilts her head, her wild waves barely held back by her glasses. “That’s exactly why it’ll be fine. No one is looking at you in Miami Beach. It’s the best place to be incognito.”

Juliette can’t argue with that. Livia flicks her shoulder as she passes. “Shower first. You’re gross. And wear something nice.”

“It’s not a date, Livia,” Juliette snaps, her cheeks heating.

Livia’s mouth twitches, and it’s clear she’s holding back a laugh. “Of course not, Juliette,” she drawls, clearly meaning the opposite. “This is for marketability. The stans want to see you looking gorgeous and perfect.”

Juliette fake gags and rolls her eyes. But Livia, as always, is right.

Juliette wonders if she should text Luca while she diffuses her curls. The longer she waits, the less likely it’ll be that Luca will say yes. Realizing it might be awkward to explain over text, Juliette finishes doing her hair and gets dressed. She knows Livia will yell at her if she wears her beaten-up sneakers with her silky white midi skirt and simple white tank, but they’re comfortable, so she does anyway.

Unfortunately, she can’t procrastinate picking out her jewelry because Livia sends her the exact lineup. A new diamond bracelet for a sponsorship post, gold rings, and her gold tennis racket necklace. She fluffs out her hair and pops on her cherry lip gloss before slinging her satchel over her shoulder and heading upstairs to Luca’s room.

Nerves twist in her stomach as she knocks. She should’ve called instead. Easier to be rejected over the phone.

It doesn’t take long for Luca to open the door. “Oh, hey,” she says, blinking as she takes in Juliette.

“Hi,” Juliette says. She feels overdressed and a little stupid. Luca is in an oversize T-shirt that hangs over the edge of her shorts—if she’s even wearing any. Part of her hopes that she isn’t.

“Sorry, I have the curtains open,” Luca says, a sheepish smile on her lips.

Warmth spreads in Juliette’s chest. “It’s okay.” There goes her idea of pushing Luca into her room and going down on her again. Probably for the best. Livia would kill her if she’s late. “I wondered if you wanted to come to the boardwalk with me.”

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