“That means you’re stuck calling me Tony. Because ‘Mr. Stark’ is so formal, no offense to you, but it makes me want to puke. So if I’m calling you Summer, best get used to calling me Tony.” He lets out a snort of amusement. “Heroic male self-sufficiency bullshit. That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard all day.”
“Tony, then. I’m serious. No pretending everything’s okay when it’s not; I’ll know.” Summer raises her eyebrows and gives the dark-haired man a stern look that quickly dissolves into a smile. “That being firmly established, would you care to join me for dinner?”
He gives a lazy shrug of his shoulders. “I don’t know about that. I’m pretty damn good at hiding my problems should I have any so good luck on figuring that puzzle out. Not everything about every ranger is in our file. Files are just complied data. They don’t tell you everything.” He returns the smile. “Oh? Don’t you eat in the mess hall like everybody else? Because that’s where I was headed off to before I bumped into you.”
“Well, yes,” she allows, “but I do generally eat alone. I’m inviting you to share my table, Tony.” She clasps her hands at her breast dramatically, adopting a wildly overblown tone. “Save me from the deadly boredom of patient files, good sir, I beg you!”