Mr. Denver: The Version You Didn't Hear

Chapter 20

I picked her up right on time.

She was already waiting outside in a clean-cut sports outfit—sleek leggings, a soft-fitted jacket, and her hair tied back in a way that somehow made her look even more effortlessly beautiful. I didn’t say it, but I thought it.

“Hey… I’m here,” I called out as I stepped from the car.

“Hey, how was the meeting?” she asked.

“It was great. Here.” I tossed her the key and walked inside to change. Five minutes later, I returned to find her scrolling on her phone in the passenger seat, seatbelt already on. She looked relaxed, like she belonged there.

I got in and pulled out of the driveway. “We’re heading to Trillium,” I said. “It’s a good stretch spot. My friends, Nate, Ian and Lucas, are already jogging their way through the trail with their wives, but we’ll meet them and walk some laps together.”

“Sounds good,” she replied. A comfortable silence settled in until she broke it.

“Jacob, tomorrow I’m going for a cake tasting. You wanna come?”

“Sure. What time?”

“Eleven. Do you have any work?”

“No. I’m yours.” She smiled, and it did something to my chest. We weren’t pretending at that moment. It wasn’t about a wedding. It wasn’t about the elders. It was just her asking, and me saying yes. She didn’t know how much that meant to me.

“After the jog, we’re having dinner with my friends, Ian and Nate. It’s their last night in Toronto,” I said.

“I’d love to.” A pause.

“So… how did you meet them?” she asked curiously. “I mean, I never saw them around when I worked with you. You always went out alone.” That was true. I’d never brought that part of my life into the office. I kept it separate, intentionally. But now we weren’t living in separate worlds anymore.

“That's going to sound deep,” I said carefully. “Me, Ian, and Lucas were… actually mafias.”

She stared at me, wide-eyed. “Wait—what?”

I nodded. “Yeah. It’s complicated.”

“You killed people?” she asked, panic rising in her voice.

“Yes and no.”

“What does that mean?” I laughed softly, not because it was funny, but because her shock was so genuine.

“We’re not in that world anymore. That’s why I have two names. Kyle was the clean businessman. Jacob… was everything else.” Her eyes darted to the window. I could see the gears turning.

“So… are you going to kill me?” she asked quietly. I burst into laughter. “No, Catherine. I’m not a mafioso anymore. Neither are Ian and Lucas. We got out. Years ago.” Her shoulders stayed stiff, her expression wary.

“You don’t need to be scared,” I added. “If Lucas was still with the mafia, do you think Crystal’s dad would’ve allowed the marriage?” That got a tiny nod from her. The Lemiere name wasn’t just known, it was feared. Crystal’s father wouldn’t marry her off to someone without vetting them with a CIA-level background check.

“You scared the shit out of me,” she hissed.

I smirked. “You started dating a man with two names. You had to know there was a story.”

She shook her head, muttering, “Unbelievable.” We reached Trillium Park not long after. As I parked, she made sure to walk a few feet behind me.

“You’re being dramatic,” I said, waiting for her to catch up.

“What?”

“I’m not going to kill you. Promise.” She pouted. I reached for her hand and held it.

“Relax,” I said softly.

We found the others near the stretch circle. Nate and Joan, Ian and Tatiana, Lucas and Crystal, tight-knit, smiling, stretching like they weren’t also former criminals with body counts.

“Hey,” I greeted, and everyone turned. Catherine received a warm welcome, especially from Joan who introduced herself with a quick hug. I saw Catherine’s expression soften as she met the girls—Joan, Crystal, Tatiana—who quickly pulled her aside while the guys jogged off ahead.

I joined the guys, jogged a couple laps, but my focus kept drifting.

She was laughing. Talking and opening up, I liked seeing that.

I liked seeing her.

After a few rounds, we met again near the ping pong tables. I overheard pieces of conversation as I approached.

“So Jacob was one too?” Catherine asked in a cautious tone.

“Yeah,” Crystal answered. “He got out earlier though. With help from his grandfather.” I froze.

“She’s asking about the mafia stuff,” I whispered to Lucas.

He shrugged. “Let her. Better she hears it from someone she trusts.” Tatiana added, “Lucas used his real name. Ian’s was Deandre Romeo. Jacob had Kyle. That was their way to stay clean.” Catherine was nodding slowly. Taking it in.

“Don’t worry,” Joan said gently, “they didn’t choose the mafia. They were taken into it.” I saw Catherine exhale—relieved, finally. She caught my eye and smiled. Not a performance, not pretend and real.

And in that moment, I knew something had shifted between us. Not just attraction. Not just obligation, but trust.

The kind you can’t fake—no matter what name you go by.