Mr. Denver: The Version You Didn't Hear - Chapter #8 - by Yan Stellar

First days used to excite me. New staff, new mergers, new ventures. But today, I found myself unsettled. Not because something was wrong at work, but because Catherine Ashton had reemerged, and she was flying to Toronto tonight.

I leaned over my desk, reviewing the guest list for the Williams Foundation’s charity brunch. Mostly investors and philanthropic aristocrats, the same faces I’d been shaking hands with for the last decade. It was supposed to be a formality. Show face. Smile. Thank donors. But now it was different.

Now she was coming into the picture.

I hadn’t told my grandfather she agreed to meet again. I hadn’t told him about her dinner in Vegas that happened to be with Barry, not me. He will probably kill me because I sent Barry to act as me and lie to Catherine, but he needs to understand that I really don’t have time to play around. Time is of the essence, time is money.

Besides, didn't he say that Catherine still wants to focus on herself? We are both still young and maybe we’re currently on the peak of our careers. I don’t know why our grandparents wanted us together so badly, I’m sure that Tim knows that I’m a workaholic, perfectionist and somewhat a clean freak.

Not to mention that Catherine Ashton’s life has been so private that not a single photo of her has been leaked to the press. The only picture that the public has are her baby photos. She’s cute, especially with the signature Ashton honey blonde hair.

I mean, what do I expect from Ashton's favorite granddaughter.

I looked over the Toronto office updates next. The transition to LA had been slow-rolling for a year now, and with Joseph’s ties to the Ashton family deepening, we were finally nearing the execution phase.

Truth be told, the LA move wasn’t just about strategy anymore. It was about proximity. Not that I’d admit that. My grandfather thought he was clever. Set the pieces, move the board. Catherine and I were the final play. But I wasn’t convinced the game was going to unfold the way he planned.

***

By late afternoon, I’d wrapped up meetings and had the charity plans finalized. The brunch was set in the estate gardens, polished and serene, the utter opposite of what I expected. Usually they do this indoors, but this is much more traditional, more intimate and more dangerous in a way.

Because now I’d have to face her not as a stranger or a business partner, but as a prospective husband who happened to fool her.

That word felt surreal.

Marriage.

Not once in my life had I imagined it being arranged. Negotiated. And yet, here I was, waiting for a woman I barely knew to fly across the country and walk into my world. The difference this time? She wasn’t just a name on a file. She’s going to be my future wife if I don’t mess it up.

I sent a message to my new secretary who is still an amateur.

Kyle: Clear my schedule for the next two days. I also want Gerry to make sure that none of the info leaks to the press. No photos, no articles about my private life.

New Secretary 13: Yes, Mr. Denver. I will make sure of that.

Today is going to be fun.

The charity garden brunch was supposed to be a formality. Elegant, polished, predictable. Until it wasn’t. They had everything lined up: press covered for the charity, donors briefed, speeches printed, guest list secured. The sun was buried behind a thick layer of cloud cover—cool and gray. Toronto played polite host to the crowd as if it sensed the tension I had no intention of acknowledging.

The old man and I stood side by side backstage, moments before our names were called.

“You good?” he asked me, tightening his tie with the slow confidence of a man who'd lived too many lives.

“I’m fine,” I lied.

“Don’t act surprised when she walks in,” he muttered with a small smile.

I frowned and scoffed. “Why would I be?” He didn't answer.

The emcee began his welcome, thanking guests and introducing us, the Williams family.

I walked onstage with my grandfather, expression composed, spine straight. But my mind wasn’t in the crowd. It was already searching the horizon for blonde hair, for anger, for fate—because I knew what was about to happen, and I wasn’t ready.

My eyes scanned the crowd and suddenly I found one familiar face.

Dakota.

Her eyes looked straight into mine, she raised her eyebrow looking at me confused. I, too, was confused to see her standing there beside the one and only Tim Ashton. Let’s add the fact that she dyed her hair from brunette to blonde. What is she doing here? I thought she’s supposed to get married and take care of her grandfather. She’s assisting Tim Ashton, don’t tell me that she’s working for him now?

Then something hit me, the more I looked at her.

Tim turned to her and me, looking at us back-to-back, as if he’s loving the situation. I have so many questions inside my head and I turned to my grandfather who was busy giving a speech about how he’s so thankful for all of the guests who came and participated in the charity gala. He also mentioned how grateful he is to be able to help people in need.

My gaze turned to the crowd again and landed straight on Dakota who crossed her arms in front of her chest. She also has a lot of questions, that much is obvious.

“Jacob.” I snapped my head to my grandfather.

Silently, he passed me the mic and told me to say a few words for the audience before we proceed to the main event.

“Good afternoon everyone, I’m Jacob Williams. Thank—” My eyes landed straight to my secretary who just resigned a few days ago, “Thank you for coming to The Williams Charity Gala, as the heir to Joseph Williams himself, I will make sure that all the money will go to the ones in need.” Dakota looked amused which caused me to have a pause. What was the reaction that I’m hoping exactly?

My grandfather poked my arm, “For— for years, we have been helping lots of foundations throughout the globe to spread kindness and awareness—” Dakota smirked, which making me raise my eyebrows.

“Get it together, boy. You’re fucking embarassing yourself.” My asshole of a grandfather hissed and I snapped out of it.

“So thank you for believing us as a foundation for this good gesture. That’s all, everyone. Thank you and I hope everyone have a great time.” My speech was short and fast, I passed the mic back to my grandfather who looked so disappointed. He added some points and ended the speech.

We both walked down from the stage and as I planned to find Dakota, my grandfather stopped me, “Where are you going?”

“I’m—”

“I want you to meet someone.” He insisted as he dragged me to the waiting room.

“Can we do this later?”

“No.” The almighty Joseph Williams hissed and glared at me. I sat on the sofa and looked at him, who was busy pacing back and forth. The door opened revealing Dakota with Tim Ashton. Her eyes widened, so did mine.

“Catherine Ashton, how are you?” My grandfather got up and walked over to her. She gave him a hug.

Wait a minute…

Catherine Ashton, as in Tim Ashton’s granddaughter? Dakota Lennix is Catherine Ashton? She’s the missing granddaughter who went to New York? Not only did she go to New York, she changed her identity and worked for me.

“Hi Joseph.” Dakota said, I mean Catherine.

“Tim!” My grandfather pulled away. They both hugged like they didn’t see each other last week, then turned to us like we did something ridiculous.

“Joseph!” The two old wolves were grinning like they’d just bagged a hunt. They sat together, and Joseph promptly shoved me toward Catherine. I didn’t move, I looked at her with so many questions inside my head. Instead of trying to ask me about my real identity, Dako—I mean Catherine shrugged.

My grandfather laughed all of the sudden, “Go on, Jacob. Say hello to Catherine. Or do I need to fetch Brad to coach you again?” I sighed, looking at my grandfather.

“Jacob Williams,” I said stiffly, extending a hand. She looked at it like it might bite her, she shook my hand but quickly pulled away.

“Catherine Ashton,” she replied, shaking it only because her upbringing wouldn’t allow her to ignore decorum. We stood there, in the quiet of our lies crashing down. Tim and Joseph leaned back in their chairs, watching us like two smug matchmakers satisfied with their ultimate trap.

“You really thought you were clever, didn’t you?” I muttered, looking at the both of them.

“You sent Brad to Vegas,” she snapped and I turned to Dakota, I mean Catherine. “Let me guess. You thought I’d back out if I knew who you really were.”

“Wouldn’t you have?” I asked without blinking.

She paused. “Yes.” Fair enough.

“Do you even know how messed up this is?” she continued. “You were my boss. For five years.”

“You were my secretary. Using a fake name.” We both went quiet. This wasn’t a conversation, it was a standoff.

“You both are impossible,” Joseph said. “Just say thank you. You’re welcome. You’ve finally met the right person.”

“This isn’t a love story, Grandpa,” Catherine hissed.

“It could be,” Tim said gently. I turned to Joseph, shaking my head.

“You set this up. You lied. You used me.”

“I gave you a push,” he corrected. “You lied to me about meeting her. There’s no way that you would have such a flat reaction once you know the real Catherine. Real smart, my boy.” That hit harder than I expected because it was true.

After the grandfathers began debating whose plan was riskier, Catherine and I sat silently side by side. I looked at her, this woman I’d known in pieces for five years—her sighs, her sarcasm, her tenacity. And now… her truth.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me,” I said quietly.

She looked away. “Good. Because I don’t.”

“But maybe… maybe we can start again.” She turned back, narrowing her eyes.

“I don’t even know who you are.” I nodded.

“That’s fair. Then let me reintroduce myself.” She tilted her head, arms folded.

“And what name should I call you now? Jacob or Kyle?” I smiled faintly. I love how she’s asking me which one I preferred even though there’s a hint of sarcasm there. Dakota or should I say Catherine have known me as Kyle Denver for five years. Kyle Denver is a name that I use when I’m building my empire. The empire that I build from the ground which I’m so fucking proud of.

As for my real name, Jacob Williams, the name came with a whole set of burden. I was born with it, the last name carried a lot of weight. People will take a step back and bow down as soon as my last name come into the picture. My great grandfather build his empire from zero and we successfully carrying it for four generations. I’m proud of it, but I want to build my own empire before continuing the Williams legacy.

“Whichever one you plan to yell at next.” She rolled her eyes. And just like that, a thread of possibility stitched itself between us again, frayed, delicate, but undeniable

“The wedding is in a month, and Catherine will be staying here in Toronto until then,” Joseph said, his voice low and measured like a judge handing down a life sentence. “We’ll have the ceremony here, before the two of you move to LA for good.” I stared at him.

Every part of me wanted to object. Loudly and dramatically. But what was the point? The ink had dried long before either of us had a chance to protest.

“We’ll give you two some time to talk,” Tim Ashton said. And we desperately needed that.