CHAPTER SIX: TYLER
I had Charlie on speaker phone as I drove the Hummer from the little airstrip where we landed the corporate jet outside of Mountain View to the cabin on the side of the mountain. Charlie had remained behind in Denver to work out the details of the latest development project we had in the works. There was no rush for me to get back to Mountain View, other than I wanted to see Maggie Dean again.
Silly, I know, but I had not been able to get the look of shock on her pretty face when I flashed my cock at her out of my mind. Hell, I didn’t flash it. I practically flung it out there and yelled, “Come and get it!”
I would never admit it, especially to Charlie, but a part of me felt bad for what I’d done to Maggie. It was pretty fucked up after all. I just met the girl and offered to pay her for opening up those fuck-ably long legs for me.
I’d gotten so used to being the “billionaire mountain man” they wrote about in Playboy and Esquire that sometimes, common decency just flew out the window. I was the swinging dick party boy who ordered up women like fast food from a menu.
I’ll take a blonde, a brunette, and two redheads to go, please. And keep them coming.
It was almost like I didn’t know how to act around a real girl anymore.
Maggie was real. She was different. She was sweet. She had self-respect. I couldn’t get her out of my mind.
The women I usually hung out with dropped their panties at the sight of me, but Maggie brought me back down to earth. As much as she needed the job, she didn’t hesitate to tell me to screw off. I had to make her mine.
I guided the Hummer along the mountain road as I listened to Charlie complain about the bribes he was having to dole out to building inspectors and various government officials to get the deal done. I told him I didn’t need to hear those kinds of details and he quickly changed the subject.
I sometimes had to turn a blind eye for the good of the company. If some lawyer down the road asked me about any of our shady dealings in Mountain View I wanted to be able to pass a lie detector and say, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
That’s why I had Charlie.
Charlie was my dirty deal maker.
He was paid millions of dollars to get the job done, no matter what it took or whose palm had to be greased or who got hurt in the process.
My hands were clean and my conscience was clear. Sort of.
I had no problem sleeping at night.
I counted hundred dollar bills to fall asleep like normal people counted sheep. I just wanted to win, period. End of story.
I’d been accused by competitors of using shady business practices in building my empire, but they’d never been able to prove a fucking thing.
Building an empire is like building a house: it’s all about the layers of insulation. And I was about as insulated as the CEO of a billion-dollar conglomerate could get.
Honestly, there’s no such thing as ‘a little shady’ in my world.
That’s like being ‘a little pregnant’ or ‘a little dead’.
It’s all shady. And it’s all business.
Being a nice guy killed my dad and I’d be damned if it would do the same to me.
Tyler Jenner always came out on top. No exceptions, no mercy.
As I turned onto the narrow road leading up to my cabin I started thinking about my dad, which I often did when I was alone.
I wondered what he would think of his little boy now, all grown up and on top of the world.
He would have been proud of where I was on the ladder of life, but maybe not so proud of the tactics I had used to get there.
Jim Jenner had started Jenner Camping Supply in a little hole-in-the-wall shop in Denver when I was just a kid. He had loved to camp and spend time outdoors, and he’d always wanted his own business. Even though he knew nothing about running a retail shop, that hadn’t stopped him from dumping his life savings into a venture that would eventually kill him.
Jenner’s sold camping equipment, rifles, hunting bows, knives, thermal underwear, and just about anything else you’d need to survive in the woods.
The problem was, dad didn’t have what it took to survive in business.
He was too fucking nice.
He wasn’t cutthroat enough.
He let people and vendors take advantage of him.
He gave people credit and discounts.
He let them take merchandise without paying.
He lent money to customers.
He let people slide.
And they all sucked off him like leeches until he went broke and couldn’t keep the shop open anymore and his loyal friends had abandoned him in droves.
At just forty-three years old, he’d had a massive heart attack a week after he closed the store. He’d died with an empty bank account and a broken heart.
And what did I learn from my dad’s experience?
That people are parasitic assholes who will suck you dry and leave you to die if you let them.
In business, loyalty always comes at a price.
You must do unto others before they do unto you.
That’s the mentality I had when I used my dad’s life insurance money to reopen his shop as Jenner Outdoors. I sold the same basic camping supplies my dad did, but I added a ton of specialized equipment and gadgets like range finders, GPS units, high powered scopes, and other “big boy toys”.
It was the mentality I used to build Jenner Outdoors from a little store on a Denver side street into a massive megastore downtown, into a nationwide chain of stores, into the global conglomerate that it is today.
That’s still my mentality.
I’ll get mine, you get yours.
And if I want yours, then by God I’m going to get it too.