Not that Tony needed her to. He already had that informa-- what had she said again? That wasn't the number S.H.I.E.L.D. had. There was a good chance she was messing with him and 555-7869 would ask him what he liked on his pizza, but Tony wasn't too worried. There was a better chance she wanted to see more of him.
Like she hadn't just slipped that little fact between them, Tony went on, blindly pulling out his cell phone to dutifully record the number like normal people would need to while he spoke. "Narcissism?" he echoed, scandalized until he continued, "I mean, who wouldn't be?" without apology. And who wouldn't be interested enough to go out of their way to read up on him? His smirk was still self-indulgent at her admission, because it never stopped feeling good to hear it. "What, you have an obstacle course set up for me or something? Come on, I was trying to figure out how you were single--" oops, read your file, too, "but that explains a lot. It's easy, here, I'll start: I know how to fuck on the beach without getting sand up your ass and my parents are dead so you never have to worry about meeting them. My hobbies include restoring cars and christening them with beautiful girls who pretend they don't like me until I talk enough to accidentally say the right thing. Have I said it yet, by the way? Stop me any time."