No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 270

Eleanor bit her lip and shot a glare at her best friend. “Look what you’ve gotten me into.”

Joy just grinned. “Don’t worry. I’ll watch Evelyn that day. You go meet Mr. Ellington and let Ian-the-jerk see just how in-demand you really are.”

Eleanor rolled her eyes, but she knew Joy meant well, so she let it slide.

On Saturday, Eleanor spent the whole day at the playground with her daughter. Evelyn was so thrilled that, come bedtime, she fell asleep without even demanding a bedtime story.

That weekend, Eleanor invited Joy over for lunch. Joy, ever the doting friend, brought along a few new toys to keep Evelyn entertained—her not-so-subtle way of making sure Eleanor could go on her date without worry.

At four o’clock, Mansfield Ellington texted her the restaurant address, adding, “Would you like me to pick you up?”

“No, thank you,” Eleanor replied.

By five thirty, she’d freshened up, pulled on a simple outfit, and headed out to a discreet garden restaurant tucked away in the city center.

At the entrance, a server guided her through a walkway lined with bamboo. The gentle notes of a string quartet drifted through the air, growing clearer as she approached.

In an elegant garden pavilion, Mansfield Ellington was finishing up a phone call. He stood tall and straight, a natural confidence in his posture—something about him had that unmistakable air of a man who’d spent time in the military.

The moment he saw Eleanor, he ended the call and smiled.

“Miss Sutton, you’re here.” Mansfield’s eyes lingered on her, and he couldn’t help but think she looked even better in person than in the photos he’d seen online after their brief encounter that night.

Tonight, Eleanor wore a simple knit sweater, a delicate string of pearls cinched at her waist, giving her an air of gentle elegance.

“This place is lovely,” she said, glancing around. The half-drawn bamboo blinds revealed a lily pond outside, moonlight shimmering across the water. The atmosphere was tranquil, almost poetic.

“I figured you’d appreciate somewhere quiet,” Mansfield said, pulling out her chair for her with effortless grace.

When Eleanor looked up to thank him, she noticed a faint blush coloring the tips of his ears.

Was he nervous?

The realization sent an odd flutter through her chest.

“Alright, I’ll send it to you,” he replied, his gaze lingering on her smile for a moment longer than necessary.

Just then, Eleanor’s phone rang. She glanced at the screen. “Excuse me, I need to take this.”

She stepped into the softly lit hallway, the warm golden glow wrapping around her. As she answered, someone from a nearby private room stepped out to take a call as well. Eleanor looked up, and so did he.

Their eyes met.

Eleanor’s expression went cold in an instant.

Ian froze, then quickly recovered, turning away to take his call in the opposite direction.

Eleanor’s call was from Simone, reminding her about the report she needed to prepare for tomorrow’s meeting. As she finished up, Ian came walking back, phone still in hand.

“What a coincidence,” he said, breaking the silence.

Eleanor didn’t reply. She gripped her phone and turned back toward the garden pavilion. Ian’s intense gaze followed her, and after a moment’s hesitation, he started down the hallway, heading straight for Eleanor’s private dining room.