Chapter 2

I leave in time for lunch. On the way to my apartment, I stop in at the Twin Peaks Restaurant. They have no clue that I own the place. There is a 45-minute wait for a table, so I tell the hostess that the manager would like to see me right away.

“I’m sorry, but the manager is busy. He will be with you as soon as he can.”

“I know you are just trying to do your job as best as you can, so I am remaining polite. Please leave and come back with the manager as quickly as you can. I am telling you that he wants to see me ASAP.”

Flustered, she leaves to find the manager.

Occasionally people recognize me. It is not like I can keep my face hidden, and I have been involved in some pretty big news stories. This time, one of the people waiting for a table recognizes me as the guy that owns Slutty Inc, the porn empire. I am thankful that he waits until the hostess leaves before asking, “Aren’t you Trent Brown? Don’t you, like, own this place or something?”

I turn to the guy and request, “Please don’t say anything. You saw how I didn’t tell the girl. I want the staff to think of me like any other customer. or at the worst, think I’m a regional manager or something.”

“I get that. Can I at least get your pic? The guys at work will never believe me when I tell them who I ran into.”

“If we do it quickly.”
I get in close enough for him to take a selfie of us. The hostess gets back in time to see him take the pic. He thanks me and the manager interrupts him.

“Is there a problem?”

The guy that just took my pic is laughing. I shake my head.

“You will want to hear what I have to say. Now, follow me.”

I then walk past him and head straight for his office. The manager isn’t pleased. First, I rudely have him dragged away from whatever he was doing. Now, I’m bossing him around.

You have to walk through the kitchen to get to the office, so he is protesting and telling me I can’t be back here. I open the office door and gesture for him to get in. At this point, he doesn’t know what to do, so he simply walks into his office, and I follow him.

“I am guessing by the reaction that you don’t know who I am. I own this place.”

“Slutty Inc. owns this place.”

“First off, I founded Slutty Inc., and I own 49% of Slutty. Secondly, when I gave 51% of Slutty to Marry, the restaurants and hotels all went to Hathor Holdings, and I own 95% of Hathor. If you would like, we can phone head office and get this straightened out. I will not get mad at you for doing your job and finding out if I am some joe trying to con you. Either way, I will be talking with your district manager. It isn’t right that you don’t know who owns the restaurant you manage. That is an oversight on her part. Not that you are innocent in this. I bet you know who Hue Hefner and Larry Flynt are.”

He is stunned and stands there with his jaw open.

I continue, “You might want to close that flytrap of yours and get me a table. Do NOT tell any of the staff who I am. If they figure it out on their own, then oh well. As far as they are concerned, I am just a regional manager inspecting the place. After the lunch rush, you can phone the actual regional manager and confirm I own the joint. I assume the wifi password is Twin Calgary.”

He shakes his head.

“We had to change it. It is now Calgary Peaks.”

“Nice. I like it better.”

We walk back out to the entrance, and he tells the hostess that I get the next table. I correct him, saying, “I get the next table suitable for one person. I notice there is a big table waiting to be seated. If my taking the table wrecks things, then I will wait for the next one.”

The hostess is a smart one. She just acknowledges with a, “Yes, sir,” and continues with her job.”

The next person to recognize me isn’t quite as kind as the last guy. Some bull dike looking thing comes up to me and says, “Your that asshole that kept all those children on the Slutty resort island aren’t you.”

“Lady, you are entitled to believe what you want. You have not heard one of those children say one bad thing about me, and I rescued them from a far worse fate. As soon as it was safe to do so, they were all sent home. If you weren’t so pig-headed, you would have noticed the part of the story where my life was on the line the entire time and that I did it for the children.”

The manager is close by and notices the altercation. He asks her to leave, and she makes a stink about how she doesn’t want to eat in the same place as a child molester any way. I follow her outside and write down her license plate number down. When I get back, my table is waiting. I apologize to those who I skipped ahead of. The patrons waiting had witnessed the gentleman ask for my picture and know I own the place, so they are forgiving.

As the hostess is seating me, I ask her, “Are there not pagers so that people that are waiting can leave and come back when their table is ready?”

“No, sir. I am told that we once had them, but too many of them went missing, so we stopped using them.”

“Thank you, dear. I hope I haven’t caused you too much trouble today.”

She just shrugs and continues with her job. A few minutes later, a gorgeous girl of about 21 is standing before me saying her name is Sylvie and that she is my waitress. She is professional and hands me my menu.

“Thank you, Sylvie. That is a beautiful name. Tell me, is it usually this busy here.”

You can see she wants to get to her next customer. She is trying to be polite but has a big section and is a bit overwhelmed.

“It is sometimes busier.”

“Well then, let me save you some time. I am ready to order.”

She gets her pen and pad ready, and I tell her what I want. Most of it isn’t quite as is on the menu. I tend to special-order a lot. She is excellent, asking all the right questions. When she leaves, I open my laptop and get to work. I need to find the perfect cover for the law firm to hire me since I don’t have a law background.

I multi-task. My waitress is too hot to ignore. She is a blond with the athletic build I so love. The other girls are all leaning in to give customers a better look at their tits, trying to entice a better tip. Their tits have nothing on her smile. You can tell that sometimes she is faking it. Even then, I can get lost in her smile. Her eyes are an unusual shade of greyish green. Everything about her is beautiful.

I flirt with her every chance I get. I am taking up more of her time than I should, but I think she is enjoying my flirting with her, and it is causing her to relax enough that she is doing a better job with all her customers.

Two hours go by, and Sylvie stops by to tell me she is going on her break. Things have started to slow down in the restaurant, so I ask her, “What do you do on a break, hear?”

“There is a break room.”

“There is no break room. There is a small locker room for you to change in when you get here. Is that what you are talking about.”

“Well, we put a table and a couple chairs there and call it a break room.”

“You can’t seriously tell me you enjoy sitting in that little closet. Take your break here. Sit down. I need a break too. Besides, I could get lost in that smile of yours. It lights up the entire city.”

Tentatively she sits down.

“You are too much. I know that guys come here to look at tits, and I am lacking in that department.”

She points at a big titted bimbo with a flat ass and a face that looks like she was hit by a sledgehammer a few too many times.

“I bet you wish you were in her section. As nice as you are, she would likely go home with you.”

I snap at her but not too harshly, “Enough of that kind of talk. Men do not come in hear for tits. They come in here for beautiful women. In that regard, you have her beat, hands down. If I were doing the hiring, she wouldn’t be here.”

Sylvie looks a little shocked.

“I doubt that very much. Look at those tits.”

“Ya, look at those tits. There is nothing to them but fat. Look at yours. There is more than enough to fill up a hand, yet they are firm and ride in just the right place. Twenty years from now, they will be just as perfect. Hers are fat and ugly. They are the best they will ever be. Five years from now, they will be banging off her knees. They will sag, and most guys will be put off by them.”

“Forget the tits. There are far better things on a woman than tits. Look at her ass. It is flat and droopy. Look at yours. It is firm and round, the perfect size and shape for your body. It is as gorgeous as a ballerina’s. Your legs are shapely like you are a soccer player, but you aren’t either of those things. You don’t have the posture of a Ballerina. Yours is more healthy. At your age, a soccer player sitting in a booth would slouch more. You are debasing yourself, and it isn’t self-loathing. You genuinely don’t see how gorgeous you are. This tells me that not enough boys have told you how beautiful you are. They are intimidated by you. Looking at your arms, you have a bit more muscle than a typical woman but not enough to make you unattractive or intimidating. The little extra muscle tone makes you even more attractive. You were ... No, you still are into a sport that intimidates a boy. You are a martial artist. You don’t have the upper body strength of a grappler. Don’t tell me. It isn’t Savate. There are only two places in town that teach it. One is an MMA gym, and you aren’t a grappler, so that is out, and the other is the far side of town. Your legs are a bit too good for Karate. You study TKD(Tae Kwan Do). The only question is WTF(World TKD Federation) or ITF(International TKD Federation)?”

She blushes but is much happier now.

“They don’t call it WTF anymore. It is just WT.”

“Sorry, I have been out of the game for a while.”

“Do you really think I am beautiful.”

I stop a guy on his way back to his seat from the restroom.

“Excuse me. Can you please tell me which girl here has the most beautiful eyes?”

It isn’t fair to him. He was only an 18-year-old kid. He blushes and looks over at Sylvie and exclaims, “You do.” Then he quickly leaves.

“How many more customers do I have to embarrass before you believe me?”

“Thank you. I need this job, but I always thought I didn’t have what it takes.”

“Work with what you got. If you want to be as slutty as the other girls, start bending over and showing your ass. Personally, I prefer it being just me ogling your backside, but hey, a girl has to make a living.”

She playfully punches me in the arm.

“I better get back to work. Thank you for asking me to sit with you. I genuinely enjoyed our talk.”

Instead of replying, I wink at her and let her get back to work. I do the same. I am right back to searching the internet. I think I found what I am looking for. Several small internet companies in Calgary are going under. Thanks to the federal government, the economy in Alberta sucks. I plan on buying up all the computer companies in Calgary that are struggling. Hire better management and combine them into one company so that it is big enough to subcontract to Hathor Defence (HD), a subdivision of HH that houses all of the defence contractors and security companies. I set it up under a dummy corp so I can act as a mediary for the law firm. There will need to be a lot of legal help with all the mergers and acquisitions.

Given how Twin Peaks is all about the women when it is quiet, the girls are encouraged to sit and flirt with the guys. Since things have slowed, Sylvie comes back and sits down. She asks, “What are you working on.”

“At first, I had a problem I needed to deal with that I can’t tell you about. Then I found my solution, so I am looking up all the computer and software companies in Calgary that are having difficulty. My solution is to buy them all, have one big merger and use the new company as a subcontractor for a bigger company I own.”

Sylvie looks a little disappointed.

“Won’t that cause a lot of people to lose their jobs?”

“Quite the opposite. I will be saving their jobs and likely making new ones. Alberta needs to diversify its economy. I like the place, and I might just help out a little.”

“One more question and I will stop bothering you. Why was that woman calling you a child molester?”

I laugh, “I’m glad you chose a question with a long answer so I can have your company for a while longer. Why don’t you check on your other customers, and when you get back, I will show you.”

She agrees and heads off to deal with other customers. While she is gone, I bring up old news stories so she can read it for herself. She is gone for about 10 minutes before she sits down again.

So much for keeping my identity a secret. I just hope that the other girls will not start trying to get with me for my money. I would hate to have to stop coming to this place. I rarely find a girl that I connect with before she learns who I am. She has earned a peek at the real me.

“I got Alisa to cover for me so you can take as long as you want with your story. I genuinely enjoy our conversation.”

“The pleasure is mine. As for the story, if I go back to the beginning, then I would go back to when I was in high school. If I do that, I would be telling you my entire life story and believe me; you do not want to hear it.”

“I’m not sure about that. You seem to be an interesting guy.”

“A lot of bad things happened, and sometimes knowledge isn’t a good thing to have. Besides, you want to get home sometime this week, don’t you?”

She just smiles at that. Doesn’t she know how much her smile turns me on?

“I will start at the beginning of that part of the story. It is going to sound far fetched, so I’m going to show you news articles to prove it.”

She nods, and I continue, “I was in the states, hunting down slaves that needed rescuing. There were three in particular that I wanted to rescue because a girl that worked for me was a slave that escaped, and these were her sister slaves. I knew who had them last and was surveilling him when I found out they were dead. In the process of searching for them, I discovered this guy ran a slave auction and was selling children. I found a way to attend the auction and bought all the children. He had records of all the slaves sold. If I let the police know what was happening, they would have found the records and the slave owners would have killed the slaves to hide the evidence. I stole the records, making it so the slave owners wouldn’t feel exposed and kill the slaves. Then I gave him to the police.”

I let her read the article. She questions, “It says here, his ranch hand turned him in and killed himself.”

“You have to remember; these are bad people we are talking about. If I were to attend any more slave auctions and save other slaves, I had to make it look like I wasn’t the guy tuning him in.”

“So then, why did he go to the FBI and kill himself?”

“I can see you aren’t going to let me off easy. I pulled a bluff. The guy that killed himself brutally tortured and killed people regularly. He was never going to turn himself in. So I bluffed. I made it look like I had his wife and sons. I then told him, if he didn’t confess to the FBI, then kill himself, I would do to them what he did to his victims. I couldn’t risk anybody finding out the truth, and he couldn’t talk if he were dead. Think about it. I still had many more people to save, and if he said one word and the wrong person heard, many people I care about and I would be dead.”

She is looking a little pail but indicates she wants me to continue.

“I had all these children I bought from the auction and had a choice. I could send them home where it was likely that those that originally captured them would kill them, or I could hide them away. When I hid them, I educated them and made sure they had at least as good a life as they would have gotten at home. I continued my work and rescued many slaves.”

I gave her a few more articles to read. All she could say was, “WOW, I didn’t know the states was that bad.”

“They aren’t, at least not anymore. As soon as it was safe to do so, I started sending the children home. Unfortunately for some of the families, I had the children for five years. That is when I went to the President for a pardon. He gave it to me, then to work it to his political favour, this is what he did.”

I showed her the lies he spread about me.

“The only reason for the pardon was because of my ability to help the states out of a recession. He made things much harder on the children. He sent the navy to collect them and then housed them in horrible conditions. After that, most of the children didn’t get to see their families for at least eighteen months. If they were allowed to stay with me, the last child would have been home in under three months.”

“You did all that, and people call you a child molester? What is wrong with them?”

“People tend to believe the first thing they hear, and for most people, the first time they heard of it was when the President insinuated I was a child molester.”

“I know you kept some of the worst parts from me, and I don’t want to hear them. I know you would have had to do some horrible things to keep your cover, and that is why the government can never do what you did.”

There is a bit of an awkward silence, and I can tell she wants to ask a question. I try to make it easier for her, saying, “I know there is something more you want to ask. If it is something you are better off not knowing, I will tell you and give you the option not to hear it.”

“Is this why you are single?”

I hide my emotions as best as I can.

“Only partly, I grew close to many of the ex-slaves and other women that helped me. I made them do some horrible things, all in the name of helping their sisters. Twelve of them want me to live with them in a polygamist relationship. I have problems looking at them without seeing what I have done. One of them is the mother of my child.”

“I can see how that would make a relationship difficult.”

“It gets worse. When it was all over, I left to find myself. I didn’t know Crystal was pregnant with my child. If you think what I did with the kids was a large scale event, you haven’t heard anything. You are going to have to trust me on this one because I am not looking it all up for you. Parts of the story can’t be looked up. I felt like I needed to redeem myself, and I started out doing the right thing. I used my wealth to pressure Turkey to close their slave auctions, and they refused. While that was happening, I made deals with India. I ended up being a merchant of death. I own enough defence contracts that you could say that I am the largest defence contractor in the world. I also own the largest private army, which is how the next part was so easy. One of the biggest sources of slaves in the world was all the migrants fleeing Syria. I had to stop that, so I escalated the Syrian civil war, trying to end it. I then blockaded Turkey and forced them to deal with their slavery issues. I am directly responsible for the lives of the sailors on the boats I ordered sunk.”