“Really?”
“Are you surprised?”
“Your perfectionistic standards are sky-high.”
He handed the phone back. “Maybe I'm not as perfectionistic as you believe.”
“Oh, you most certainly are. May I send?”
“Send,” he confirmed.
She did so and set her phone aside.
“It's late in France,” he said. “I don't expect Cedric to reply anytime soon but I'll stick around for ten minutes just in case he does.”
“'Kay. Ice cream?”
“No, thanks.”
She pulled a carton of Rocky Road out of the freezer, served herself a scoop, and took a bite.
His stomach growled.
She shot him an expression that said,You should have taken me up on my food and ice cream offer when you had the chance.
Her phone rang face-up on the counter. The caller ID readDebt Collection.
She made a sound of frustration and silenced the call.
Several seconds passed and the same company called again. “Slow to take a hint,” she murmured and silenced it.
When they called a third time, Jude swiped the phone and answered. “This is Gemma Clare's attorney. Are you calling to collect on a debt?”
“Yes,” a man answered.
“What is the address of your workplace?”
A pause. “Did Gemma consent for you to speak on her behalf?” the man asked.
He held the phone toward Gemma. “Please give him verbal confirmation that I can speak with him on your behalf.”
She looked unsure.
“Trust me,” he said.
She didn't take the phone from him, just leaned over close to the microphone. “This is Gemma Clare, and he does have permission to speak with you on my behalf.”
Jude brought the phone back to his ear. “What is the address of your workplace?”
The debt collector cursed.
Gemma slid a notepad and pen in his direction.
“The Fair Debt Collection Practices Act prohibits you from using profane language,” Jude said. “The address of your workplace, please?”
The man grudgingly rattled off the address.
Jude wrote it down. “Expect a letter from me dictating at what hours you are permitted to contact my client by phone.” He completed the call, folded the piece of notepaper, and slipped it into his pocket.
