No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 399

6:30 p.m.

A cozy Italian bistro.

Faye sat tucked away in a dimly lit private booth, the kind designed for whispered secrets and personal conversations.

Callie arrived a few minutes late, still flushed and a little sweaty from his dash from the university lab. He wore a simple plaid shirt and jeans, his glasses slipping down his nose, exhaustion written in the lines beneath his eyes.

“Sorry, I got held up wrapping things up in the lab.” He offered an apologetic smile as he slid into the seat across from her.

Noticing how Faye had dressed to impress—her outfit was bold and attention-grabbing—Callie self-consciously scratched the back of his neck.

Back in college, Faye had been the unattainable beauty; someone like Callie, from a modest background, would have never caught her eye if not for his stellar grades.

Now, with Faye unexpectedly asking him out to dinner, Callie felt both flattered and a little out of his depth.

Faye teased, “Wow, look at you, Mr. Mad Scientist! I get it, work’s important. But tonight, dinner’s on me—let’s order first.”

Once the waitress left with their order, Faye leaned back and tried to sound casual. “So I heard you took over Eleanor’s project? How’s that going?”

Suddenly, Callie’s eyes lit up. “It’s actually going pretty well! Especially the targeted delivery system she proposed—it’s just—”

Faye’s smile faltered. She hadn’t come here to hear him gush about Eleanor. With a hint of sharpness, she cut in, “Yeah, Eleanor’s amazing. None of us can quite measure up, right?”

Callie wasn’t the most socially adept, but he wasn’t clueless either. He gave a small, awkward laugh and let the subject drop.

“How are you, though?” he asked, trying to steer the conversation away. “It’s a shame about Horace. Last time we talked, he mentioned he’d started working sales at an auto dealership.”

Faye knew all about Horace. But the truth was, she’d long since decided he was beneath her now. He’d even tried to ask her out recently, but she’d brushed him off, claiming she was too busy.

She clearly didn’t want to talk about Horace, giving only a noncommittal “Oh,” before fixing her gaze on Callie.

His cheeks flushed under her scrutiny, and he grew visibly nervous. “Faye, is there something you wanted to talk to me about?”

Seeing her chance, Faye smiled slyly. “Think about it, Callie. Eleanor has all the right connections—she’ll do well wherever she goes. But you? You’re brilliant, but with your background, it’s hard to stand out in research. Opportunities like this don’t come around often.”

Faye clenched her jaw in frustration. Why was this bookworm so impossible to sway?

Trying a different tack, she ran her fingers through her hair and leaned closer. “Callie, we’ve known each other for years. You know I’d never do anything to hurt you. If you want, I can help you get more exposure—I have connections with Professor Langley—”

“Faye.” Callie interrupted, his voice unusually firm. “This isn’t a game. Research is serious—it’s not about clawing for glory.”

Faye’s expression darkened.

“Callie!” she snapped. “I’m just trying to help—”

He got to his feet. “Thanks for dinner, Faye, but I think we’re done here. I won’t do anything to undermine Eleanor.”

Faye shot up as well, her voice rising. “So you’re in love with her too?”

Callie paused, then shook his head. “No. I admire her. Respect her. Only someone like Joel would be worthy of her.”