No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 500

Behind her, Faye bit her lip. Not long ago, Gwenda used to bend over backwards to please her. Now, though, Gwenda seemed to orbit around Eleanor—clearly, Eleanor had her own way of winning people over.

Even someone as dense as Callie seemed fiercely loyal to her these days.

Vanessa returned from the restroom, her purse slung over her shoulder. Spotting Faye, she called out, “Have you seen Ian around?”

Faye shook her head. “No, haven’t seen him. Didn’t you find him out there?”

“He’s not at his table. Guess he must’ve stepped out,” Vanessa replied, sounding a little disappointed. She glanced at her watch. “Let’s go grab something to eat.”

Meanwhile, Eleanor, Simone, and the rest of the group climbed into a small shuttle van that dropped them off at the entrance of a nearby hotel.

As Eleanor stepped out, she spotted Principal Maxwell emerging from Ian’s car. The two men were laughing, deep in conversation.

A strange feeling tightened in Eleanor’s chest. She had a hunch about what was coming.

Ian was the host of tonight’s dinner.

Following Simone, Eleanor trailed behind six distinguished professors as they entered the hotel lobby.

Her intuition proved correct. Principal Maxwell clapped Ian on the shoulder and announced, “It’s Ian’s treat tonight. It’s not often we’re all together like this—let’s make the most of it and catch up.”

Eleanor kept to the back of the group as the elevator arrived. Everyone squeezed inside, and when Eleanor stepped in last, she realized just how crowded it was. Ian stood right at the front, his gaze flickering toward her.

There was still space, technically, but if she got in now, she’d be practically pressed against him.

She hesitated at the threshold. “Come on, Eleanor!” Simone called, beckoning her in.

As Eleanor stepped forward, the elevator let out a warning beep. Suddenly, a strong arm blocked the door, while another hand took her wrist and pulled her inside.

She stumbled, colliding with Ian’s chest. Her whole body tensed as she quickly pulled away, elbowing Professor Vinson—an older gentleman with silver hair—by accident.

“I’m so sorry, Professor Vinson,” she apologized at once.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said kindly, shifting to give her more space.

Now she was standing almost shoulder-to-shoulder with Ian, her posture ramrod straight, his clean cedar scent filling the air between them and making it hard to breathe.

When they reached the sixth floor, Eleanor was the first to step out, holding the elevator doors open for the others. Once everyone had exited, she and Simone brought up the rear, following the group into a spacious, elegantly decorated private dining room.

Principal Maxwell was given the seat of honor, the professors found their places in turn, and finally, Eleanor and Ian—being the youngest—sat at the end of the table.

Eleanor’s expression was a bit stiff, while Ian seemed perfectly at ease.

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