Mirrored Man: The Rob Tyler Chronicles Book 1 by GJ Fortier Read Free Book Online

build. He stood about five foot ten, carried with him a
thin brown portfolio, and was dressed casually in penny loafers,
blue jeans, and a red and black University of Georgia polo
shirt.
    A Bulldog, huh? What a redneck
this guy must be. “Senator Kitchens,” Greg said, managing his
best warm smile. “I'm Greg Mathers. It's a pleasure to meet you,
sir. Welcome to Georgia. How was your flight?”
    “Short,” Kitchens replied, with just a hint
of a southern accent. His brown eyes glinted as he smiled and
continued. “I didn't even have time to finish the movie.”
    “What movie was that, sir?” Greg asked.
    Kitchens eyed him closely. “A joke. I'm
sorry. My sense of humor loses somethin’ in the translation.”
    Greg gave the senator a quizzical look.
    “Major, isn't it?” Kitchens firmly grasped
Greg's hand, smiling broadly. The smile of a politician. “Or, do
you prefer Doctor?”
    “Just Greg is fine, Senator. I don't stand
too much on formality, sir.” Greg gained a marginal amount of
respect for the man, while, at the same time, trying not to look
too uncomfortable. At least he knows who I am .
    Kitchens' brow furrowed. “Nonsense. Doctor
and Major are both very respectable titles. You've earned
everything that comes with 'em. Don't ever let anybody tell you
different, especially somebody who lies for a living like a
politician.”
    Greg was taken aback slightly by the
senator’s candor, but he recovered quickly. “It's best if we
maintain protocol and keep a low profile, so just Greg will do
please, Senator.” Gesturing toward the car, he asked, “Shall we
go?”
    “Lead the way … Greg.” Kitchens walked to
the passenger side. “But, if it's gonna be Greg for you, then it's
gonna haf'ta be Kevin for me. You know, low profile and
everything.” Kitchens winked. He knew the idea of a United States
senator trying to maintain a low profile would be rather amusing to
most.
    “Yes, sir … Kevin.” The name nearly caught
in Greg's throat.
    “Look,” Kitchens said as he placed a hand on
the hood and quickly recoiled, scowling at the sun-beaten metal.
“I've only had this job for a few months. I haven't even
gotten used to the title yet. And I don't much care for pomp and
circumstance either.” Climbing in, he noticed the golf bags and
added, “You got a date, Greg?”
    “Sir?” Greg's face screwed up at the
unexpected question.
    Kitchens nodded toward the back seat. “The
clubs. When's tee time?”
    “Oh, those. No, sir. I mean … I don't have a
date. The clubs are a gift for you and your wife, sir.” Greg turned
his sometimes too-attentive eye to the senator's hand, noting the
absence of a wedding ring.
    “A gift?” Kitchens’ confused look spoke
volumes.
    “From the base commander, General Stillman,”
Greg answered, suddenly interested in the senator’s marital
status.
    Kitchens thought for a moment. “A gift from
the general.”
    “Yes, sir. What's your handicap?”
    The senator stared at the clubs. “My
what?”
    “Your handicap? How's your game?”
    A half smile intruded on Kitchens’ scowl. “I
don't play.”
    “A politician who doesn't play golf? That
seems unlikely.” Greg winced internally. He had spoken before
thinking and immediately wondered if he had offended the
senator.
    “Nope,” Kitchens replied without missing a
beat. “Do you?”
    Greg sighed, sensing that there was more to
this than a simple misunderstanding. “Um, well, yes, sir. I do. As
a matter of fact, I was on my high school team. How about your
wife? Does she golf?”
    Glancing from the clubs to Greg and back
again, Kitchens asked, “Are those nice clubs?”
    Greg couldn't decide if the senator had
ignored the question or simply hadn't heard it. Determining that it
was best just to let the subject drop, he replied, his smile
genuine. “Taylor Made? Yes, sir. I've heard they are very good
clubs. And the bags are custom made with Air Force colors. Very
nice.”
    “Oh yeah?” Kitchens’ shrug