let it out before she nodded. “I do.”
“Then I take it you wouldn’t mind if Jake and I join you at the dinner table?”
Sylvia’s mouth twisted into a sorry attempt at a smile. “It’s your table. I’m the one who doesn’t belong.”
Tate’s jaw tightened, but he refused to rise to her words. “Right.” He glanced down at his son. “Jake, do you think you can control your urge to throw your food just this once?”
Jake patted his sticky palm against Tate’s face. “Da, da, da.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Tate tilted his head toward Jake’s bodyguard. “Rosa, could you bring Jake’s chair?”
She stared at Sylvia and back at Tate before she responded. “Sí, Señor.”
“Rosa. Stop with the señor, already.” Tate shook his head. “I pulled your ponytails, we should be able to call each other by our first names for heaven’s sake.”
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