No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 395

Ellington called to ask if Eleanor could spare some time that afternoon for a meeting at the Vesper Joy Hotel.

She glanced at the time and replied, “Could we schedule the meeting for the evening instead?”

“Of course, Ms. Sutton. I’ll arrange for it to begin at seven. You can have dinner at the Vesper Joy Hotel before we start,” Ellington offered helpfully.

“Sounds good,” Eleanor agreed.

The May Day holiday was just around the corner, but for the experimental team at Meridian Dynamics—Byron’s division—it was crunch time. The holiday was being sacrificed for the project, though no one complained; after all, the pay was triple the usual rate, which made everyone content to work through the break.

Eleanor hadn’t checked her salary in ages. Money had never been an issue for her, and spending it wasn't her strong suit either. Her car was five years old, her wardrobe consisted of simple, practical outfits, and her watch was a model from several years back.

At four-thirty, Eleanor arrived to pick up her daughter. When she mentioned she’d have to head out again for a meeting that evening, Evelyn’s eyes lit up. “Mom, can I come with you to the meeting? I promise I’ll be good and quiet.”

Eleanor was caught off-guard but quickly agreed, smiling. “You really want to come with me?”

“I do!” Evelyn nodded eagerly.

“All right, then you’ll come along,” Eleanor said, gently brushing her daughter’s hair. One day, she thought, this position would be Evelyn’s to inherit.

Eleanor texted Joy, hoping her best friend could help watch Evelyn during the meeting. If Evelyn didn’t enjoy the atmosphere, at least she’d have company.

“Of course! But I expect a fancy dinner out of it,” Joy teased.

“Order whatever you like from the Vesper Joy Hotel menu,” Eleanor replied grandly.

“In that case, I’m definitely coming,” Joy laughed.

By six o’clock, the Vesper Joy Hotel lobby was glowing under crystal chandeliers. As one of Ashford City’s premier luxury hotels, it had always boasted steady profits.

Eleanor led Evelyn into the elevator. Tonight, Evelyn had dressed up in a pale blue dress, her hair clipped back with a pearl barrette. She looked every bit the little swan.

“Mom, isn’t this Dad’s hotel?” Evelyn asked, tilting her face up.

“It’s under my name now,” Eleanor answered seriously.

“Wow, Mom, you’re amazing!” Evelyn gazed at her in awe—as if her mother could do anything.

Eleanor pinched her daughter’s cheek, glancing at her own reflection in the mirrored elevator door: sharp suit, pearl earrings, and confidence that needed no embellishment.

At the entrance to the banquet hall, Ellington was waiting. Spotting the little girl by Eleanor’s side, he smiled warmly. “Ms. Sutton, is this your daughter?”

“Yes, this is my daughter,” Eleanor replied, holding Evelyn’s hand. “Say hello to Mr. Ellington.”

“Hello, Mr. Ellington,” Evelyn greeted politely.

The server pushed the cake cart into the elevator.

“Evelyn!” Joy called as she caught up.

“Miss Thatcher, the cake is for—” Evelyn began, but just then the elevator doors opened. A guest stepped out, and Evelyn craned her neck to look inside.

She caught a glimpse of a familiar figure inside the elevator. Her heart leapt with delight, but before she could call out, the doors slid shut.

“Miss Thatcher! Miss Thatcher!” Evelyn clung to Joy’s hand, breathless.

“What is it, Evelyn?” Joy knelt down, concerned.

“I just saw my dad! He was in the elevator—he went upstairs!” Evelyn tugged at Joy’s sleeve, pointing toward the elevator.

The display showed it stopping on the tenth floor. Joy recalled that the tenth floor was where the banquet halls were.

She eyed Evelyn skeptically. “You’re sure you saw your dad?”

“I’m sure! I really did! I saw his face,” Evelyn insisted, stamping her foot, still pulling at Joy’s sleeve. “Miss Thatcher, can we go upstairs and look for Dad?”

Joy wasn’t convinced, but seeing Evelyn so anxious, she figured it couldn’t hurt to check. Smiling, she said, “All right, let’s go find him.”