Summer glanced around, taking in the dimness, the space between each table, the complete absence of covert stares or buzz of gossip. She folded her hands under her chin, watching him for a long moment with a loving smile, before saying, “So, do you come here often, handsome?”“Only when I have a lovely enough lady to go with,” Tony replied playfully, as if that was the only possible answer to go with. He folded his forearms on the table, glancing around the restaurant. Pretty much just as he remembered, barring a few decorations. “You finding it to your liking so far?”
“It’s quiet, at least,” she allowed. “Nobody staring at me because you’re here.” She flipped through the menu, trying hard to keep her expression controlled. Okay, so maybe she still wasn’t used to the amount of money Tony could just throw around if he wanted. “And it’s far and away better than you trying to cook.”
Summer tapped her finger absently on the wine list. “Am I allowed to drink?” she asked, looking up at him over the little table. “Or shall we both abstain?”