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No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 327

With her twin ponytails bouncing, the girl darted through the school gates. Eleanor stood up with a small smile, but just then, her phone rang. She picked it up. “Hey, Callie.”

“I’m on my way to the lab.”

“Eleanor, Mr. Goodwin’s office just called. He wants you at Goodwin & Co. at ten for a research briefing. Don’t come to the lab yet.”

Eleanor paused, suddenly remembering Ian’s ridiculous rule about weekly reports.

“Alright, I’ll head over there. Thanks for handling things at the lab,” she replied calmly.

Ever since Ian had abandoned his daughter last time to see Vanessa, he’d sent a few texts, asking to see the girl. Eleanor had turned him down every time, without a trace of mercy.

If she could help it, she’d make sure he never showed up in their daughter’s life again. If he wanted kids so badly, he could go have them with Vanessa.

No sooner had Eleanor slipped into her car than her phone buzzed again—this time, a message from Mansfield Ellington. “Are you free for lunch? I’d love to take you out.”

She had no way of knowing how long this meeting would run, so lunch was out of the question.

She replied, “I’m sorry, Mr. Ellington, I have plans at noon.”

“No worries. Let’s reschedule when you’re available.”

“Of course,” Eleanor answered.

When she arrived at Goodwin & Co., she was a bit early—it was only nine—so she sat in the lobby to wait.

A receptionist soon appeared with a glass of water. “Miss Sutton, would you like some water?”

“Thank you,” Eleanor said, genuinely appreciative.

“You’re here to see Mr. Goodwin, right?” the woman asked.

She nodded and followed the assistant into the elevator.

The woman hesitated, then spoke up. “Miss Sutton, Mr. Goodwin… isn’t in the best mood today. Just so you know—”

Eleanor glanced at her, prompting an awkward explanation. “He kind of snapped at the project team this morning.”

Eleanor’s lips curled into a faint, ironic smile. Ian’s mood was none of her concern.

But she nodded gratefully, handed over the files, and asked the assistant to print two copies for the meeting.

The elevator stopped at the executive floor. The large conference room’s door stood ajar. The assistant gestured for Eleanor to enter but didn’t dare go in herself.

Eleanor pushed open the door.

Ian stood with his back to her, tall and imposing at the window, sunlight casting his figure in sharp relief, an unmistakable air of tension emanating from him.

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