Foolish Games(78)

After nearly ten minutes on hold, her brother picked up the phone. “Julianne, how are you? Is the baby okay?”

She sighed. “Owen’s fine, Stephen. I didn’t mean to panic you by calling. I just thought I’d save you the trouble of calling me today.”

“I thought we’d gotten past this.”

“We have. Look, Stephen, I called because I’m putting together a business plan for a new line I’m designing. You were concerned when I sold JV Designs, so I just wanted to give you a heads-up that I am thinking about my future.”

Stephen was silent on the other end of the phone.

“I’m launching a line of baby clothes,” she blurted out. “We’ll start out as an online or catalog company first, but Sebastian has a lead on potential retailers who might be interested.”

“Well, Julianne, that sounds great. I hadn’t realized you were ready to get back into the business so soon. Just a month ago you sounded as though you didn’t know what you would do. This is certainly a vast improvement. How are you going to pay for it?”

It was just like her brother to cut directly to the chase.

“I have money left from the sale, and Sebastian and Nigel are investing. But I need to borrow from Grandmother Marchione’s trust again.”

Their paternal grandmother had left money for each of her grandchildren to do with what they chose. With the exception of Julianne. It seemed her grandmother had not approved of her son’s second wife, Julianne’s artist mother. So she’d insisted that Julianne not receive her funds until she was thirty—still two years away—in hopes that by that time she would be less inclined to waste the money on the bohemian artist’s lifestyle her mother had pursued. Ironically, Julianne’s career in fashion would not have been possible had her brother not suggested she borrow against the trust in the first place. She’d paid the fund back, with interest. Her grandmother had likely somersaulted in her grave.

“The fund wouldn’t be as big today were it not for the interest I contributed, Stephen.”

“I realize that. And of course you can borrow the money. I’ll never understand why Grandmother chose to punish you for how your hippie mother lived her life. She shouldn’t have put such severe stipulations on your trust fund. I certainly don’t need to be the gatekeeper to your inheritance.”

Julianne sank down in the chair at her little desk in the kitchen, relief and agitation rolling through her at the same time. It was no use arguing with her brother about her mother. Like their grandmother, Stephen had never been fond of his stepmother. Fortunately, he never took it out on Julianne. He had made her jump through hoops to borrow the money originally, but she’d proved herself a competent businesswoman, so she hoped he’d be more lenient this time.

She began doodling Stephen’s name with devil horns on her folder. “So can we just use the same terms we did eight years ago? I’d like to get the cash as soon as possible.”

“How much do you need?”

“The whole seventy-five thousand if possible.” She drew a star with $75,000 written inside it.

Stephen blew out a breath. “I’ll see what I can do. But it may be next week before I can get it to you. And the terms will be adjusted to reflect today’s rates. You’ll need to sign your agreement to that.”

Julianne finally relaxed in the chair. She knew he could make it more difficult for her, but it still irked her to have to ask her brother for the money. It was hers, after all. “Next week will be fine. Thank you, Stephen.”

“Too bad your marriage isn’t real. Will is a rich man who could loan you the money. Although, given what he’s facing right now, you’re probably better off that the marriage is going to end in a few weeks,” her brother added.

She shot to her feet. “Ohmigod, Stephen! Be serious! This whole Bountygate scandal is ridiculous! Will hasn’t done anything wrong. He didn’t even know why they gave him the money!”

Silence greeted her on the other end of the phone line. Julianne’s heart leaped to her throat. She shouldn’t be discussing this with her brother. Granted, he wasn’t a sports reporter, but Stephen didn’t need to know Will’s secrets.

“Julianne . . .”

She cut her brother off before he could say more. “Stephen, please don’t ask me any more about this. The sports media has blown this all up, but it’s really nothing. Will is a good man. He’s Owen’s father. We need to stand behind him in this. He’s part of the family now. If you could just take care of the trust fund for me, I’d appreciate it.”