No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 289

Soft lights bathed each exhibit in the museum, casting gentle shadows that lent the artifacts an air of quiet grandeur. Eleanor made a point to keep her distance from Ian, who stood talking with Principal Maxwell. From what she’d gathered, Ian was negotiating some sort of collaboration with the Military Medical University, which explained why Principal Maxwell was personally showing him around.

She spent the entire morning wandering through the museum, losing herself among the displays. The afternoon was devoted to Professor Wyndham’s lecture—a seminar that proved both stimulating and rewarding.

Tomorrow afternoon, she’d be flying back to Ashford City at three. Eleanor made a mental note to find a gift for her daughter before leaving Kingston.

She hailed a cab, slipped into the back seat, and asked the driver to take her downtown.

As the city rolled past her window, Eleanor was admiring the scenery when her phone buzzed. The sender made her pause: Mansfield Ellington.

“Are you at Military Medical University?”

Surprised, Eleanor replied, “How did you know?”

“I saw you on the news.”

She realized suddenly—the conference these past two days must have made the headlines, though she hadn’t paid attention.

“When are you leaving?” Mansfield asked.

“Three o’clock flight tomorrow,” she replied.

“So, if I hurry over now, I’ll still be able to have lunch with you before you go?” came his next message.

Eleanor blinked, startled. “You’re coming all the way here?”

“I’ll fly into Kingston base—it’s less than an hour away from where you are.”

Eleanor’s heart skipped. Was he really rearranging his schedule for her? The thought left her feeling uncomfortably guilty.

“Mr. Ellington, maybe we can catch up next time in Ashford City,” she suggested.

“No,” he replied. “Tomorrow. Military Medical University.”

There was no room for negotiation. Eleanor gave up trying to dissuade him—he was clearly already on his way.

She spent some time wandering the shops in Kingston, eventually picking out a music box she knew her daughter would adore. She had it shipped home, and by the time she stepped outside again, it was already nine o’clock. Another taxi took her back to Military Medical University.

Lost in thought, she was jolted by the driver’s voice: “We’re here, miss.”

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