Mr. Denver: The Version You Didn't Hear
Passion Exclusive
Romance
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Description
Kyle Denver is a ruthless perfectionist who never hesitates to fire those who fall short-except Dakota Lennix. For five years, she's been the only one who can meet his impossible standards, managing his chaotic world with grace and precision. He admires her. He relies on her. Maybe he even feels something more. So when Dakota suddenly quits-revealing she's leaving to honor her dying grandfather's final wish by getting married-Kyle is caught off guard. He doesn't want her to go, but pride holds him back. Fate, however, isn't finished with them yet. When their paths cross again, nothing is as it was. Lies, secrets, and unresolved emotions threaten to upend everything they thought they knew. A spin-off of Mr. Denver-told this time from Kyle's point of view.
Chapter 1
Jun 5, 2025
2:00 p.m. sharp. If there's one thing I could rely on Dakota Lennix for, it was punctuality, or at the very least, the desperate attempt at it. I glanced at my wristwatch, then back at my monitor. No movement. No clattering heels in the hallway. No scent of overpriced Starbucks wafting through the door. Strange.
I took a sip from the bitter espresso I'd brewed myself an hour ago. It wasn’t the same. Starbucks had a habit of tasting like synthetic joy. Not my favorite, but it was a ritual now. Two cups at 2 p.m., like clockwork, and she knew it. I'd never asked her to memorize my coffee patterns. She just did. She always did. Five years under my employment, and Dakota had more rhythm to my schedule than I did.
I stood and walked toward the massive window of my office, looking down at the congested city below. I watched the street traffic absently, wondering if she'd slipped on those ridiculous heels again. Why she insisted on those when she had to run through New York with duffel bags was beyond me. But then again, Dakota rarely did things for practicality.
A knock. Two short taps.
I turned just in time to see her stumble in, breathless, hair slightly undone, two bags slung across her shoulder, and the blessed sight of two lattes trembling in her hands. Without a word, she placed the drinks on my desk, slid the duffel bags beside it, and stood ramrod straight, catching her breath as though she hadn't just sprinted through six blocks.
I raised my hand and pointed to the window. She got the cue instantly and lowered the blinds with the remote. Good. She hadn't lost her touch. I took a sip. Warm, extra foam. Slightly shaky hand judging from the uneven lid. Still, it was drinkable.
I gestured for her to sit. She obeyed, pulling out her notepad. Her hair was a mess, her blouse slightly wrinkled, but the woman could take instructions better than most interns I'd burned through in the last decade.
"Cancel all of my meetings until Saturday," I said, setting the cup down, "I'm going to Vancouver." I saw her shoulders tense. She was rearranging her world in real-time, flipping through mental calendars and contact lists.
"What's your plan in Vancouver, Mr. Denver?"
"Just book a ticket for me," I replied. "You’re not coming." That perked her up. The glimmer in her eye betrayed her poker face. A short reprieve from hell. She was practically celebrating internally, probably already planning to sleep in, eat cake, and pretend her boss didn’t exist for 96 blessed hours.
"Earliest flight tomorrow. Last flight Saturday," I added. She scribbled it down without looking up.
"Do you need anything else?" I took another sip. The coffee wasn’t as hot as I liked.
"You’re in charge of checking the construction while I’m gone."
Her pen froze. Then, hesitantly: "Isn’t that Bob’s job?"
I leaned back in my chair, eyeing her. "I just fired him. He brought two girls into his office and had sex when he was supposed to give me an update." Her eyes went wide. She looked genuinely disappointed, not in him but in her imagined four-day vacation evaporating before her very eyes.
"Send me the tickets," I said, watching her gather her things. "You know what to do."
She nodded, but I could see the slight frown twitch at the corner of her lips. I waved her off. Dakota walked out without another word, and the room grew silent again. For a moment, I stared at the closed door. Five years. She'd become too essential. And I hated how much I noticed.
Ten minutes later, she returned. Knock. Entry. Same rhythm.
"Mr. Denver, I think I have to go to LA tomorrow morning." I looked up from my monitor. Her tone was unusually soft. A whisper of something personal. I arched an eyebrow.
"Why is that?"
"My grandfather is dying. My dad just called me earlier. I have to go home." A beat of silence.
"Go," I said simply. "You have two days. Ask Cindy to replace you."
"Her name is Cynthia." I waved her off.
chapter
She left the ticket details on my desk before walking out. I stared at the slip of paper for a second. LA. Dying grandfather. Unexpected, but not unreasonable. Still, a little voice in my head questioned the timing.
I turned back to my laptop, but the coffee had already gone cold.
Mr. Denver: The Version You Didn't Hear
31 Chapters
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