Origin
an excerpt

The Hummer limousine pulled up in front of a small family-owned pizzeria in the suburbs, the driver opening the door for Doctors Carleton and Lane. Carleton held the door open for her as she stepped gingerly into the darkened smoky interior, blinking her eyes until she could see. Carleton walked straight to the back of the restaurant, and out the door, waving to a barmaid as he walked toward the back of the pier overlooking the waterfront. He pointed to Amelia. “Do you drink beer?”
“Uh—“
“Get us a pitcher and two ice cold mugs, please.”
“Excuse me?” For the first time since walking through Carleton’s door, Amelia was flustered. “Would it be okay if I have a bottle of your house red, please?”
“You’re paying. I don’t care what you drink.” He grinned and pointed to the bench on the other side of the table as he sat down, glancing out across the water. “Ever been here?”
“Well, no. Not to this particular place, no.” She stammered, watching the breeze lift tufts of brownish blond hair from his forehead, slanting evening sunlight catching light green flecks in startlingly light blue eyes. Damn him, he was playing her back. He grinned just the slightest bit. “Dr. Carleton—“
“Hey, anything but ‘doctor’, okay? Robert, Rob, even JR, just not ‘doctor’. You, Amelia; me, Rob. Fair enough?” The barmaid arrived with a pitcher for him and a bottle of Chianti for her. “Look, even more beer for me. It’s a good thing I’m off tomorrow. I wouldn’t want to taint any samples with improper data.” He poured himself a mug and took a long, calculative draft.
“Rob. Are you ready for a change, Rob?”
“That depends on what kind of change we’re talking about, Amelia. You promised to change my life. Are you sure you don’t know my mother?”
Amelia laughed. “I know your mother, yes.”
“Ah. Well, then. Now we know how high priced of a hooker you are.” The waiter arrived as Amelia’s mouth hung open. “I’ll have an order of bread sticks and your super deluxe pizza with hand-tossed crust. The lady will be having multiple fake orgasms and 2.4 children with a 5 bedroom house and a pre-nup.”
“What?”
“Bring me a double shot of whiskey, will you? And come back for the lady’s order when she’s calmed down.” Rob dismissed the waiter, sat back, patted his jacket until he came up with a cigarette, and then lit it, studying her as she tried to compose herself.
“Dr. Carleton—“
“Rob. Remember?”
“I don’t believe—“
“No, you don’t, do you?” He took a long drag of the cigarette, smiling as she waved smoke away. “Lady, I’ve lived with bullshit my whole life, and her name is Grace. So cut to the chase and just spill it. I don’t kiss and tell, I don’t fall for window dressing.”
“Which means what, exactly? Why do you think I’m here?”
“Oh, ‘doctor’, is it? You may think you know my mother, but you don’t. That woman has tried every angle known to man to get me married off, so her socialite friends will quit talking about me as the lone bachelor… you know, wink wink, must be gay since he’s damn near 40 and not married, must be something horribly wrong with that boy. You are not the first she’s sent after me in hot pursuit of her own agenda.”
The double shot of whisky arrived as Amelia’s mouth hung open in disbelief. She grabbed the glass, downed the shots, and forcefully slapped the glass on the table. She pointed an accusing finger at him as he picked up the glass, glanced at it appreciatively, and motioned to the waiter to bring the full bottle. “You are an asshole.”
“Yes. Yes, I am. I’m glad we’ve got that out of the way. So let’s just cut to the chase and forget the bullshit. Who are you, really?”
“You have a lot of nerve. I told you who I am and why I’m here.” The bottle of whiskey arrived and he poured them both a shot as she shook her head no. “I’m a headhunter.”
“Yeah, whatever. A doctor. Why would a doctor be a headhunter?”
“The money is damned good, mister.”
He shot some whiskey and chased it with beer. “We’re back to price and prostitution, then.”
“Oh, holy fuck.”
“The way you’re dressed, that was probably next.”
She leaned across the table, quick as a maddened viper, to slap him hard across the face. He caught her hand by the wrist. She growled at him, inches from his face. “My specialty is clinical neurophysiology with an emphasis in neural muscular disorders. I completed my research and coursework at Baylor, graduated from UCLA, and most of my medical background has been working with Parkinson’s Disease. The initial work on apomorphine injections? That was my team. Remember when Amgen pulled GDNF from testing? I was part of the team that raised concerns about efficacy. I am not here for whatever matchmaking you think your mother is doing. I’m here to hire you.”