No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 413

Byron paused, glancing up at Faye with a note of concern in his voice. “Faye, are you sure you can handle this?”

Faye straightened her back, determination in her eyes. “Absolutely, VP Chase. I won’t let you down.”

“Alright, then go get ready,” Byron nodded, giving her the green light.

As Faye stepped out of Byron’s office, she finally allowed herself a sigh of relief. The chance to give this presentation was finally hers—no one was going to snatch it away this time.

She couldn’t afford to fail.

After two sleepless nights spent hunched over her laptop, Faye finally completed the first draft of her speech. She polished and trimmed it, then sent the final version to Byron’s inbox, waiting anxiously for his approval.

Meanwhile, Eleanor’s latest project handoffs had gone off without a hitch, and Garrison’s team had pulled off a flawless round of testing.

Wednesday’s morning meeting was about to start.

“Laird, let VP Chase know I’ll be skipping the morning meeting—I have a video call with Dr. Bradley,” Eleanor said as she dialed the office intercom.

“Sure thing! I’ll let him know,” Laird replied cheerfully.

Just before the meeting began, Byron’s phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID and answered immediately, nervousness creeping into his tone. “Hello, Mr. Goodwin.”

“Why has the speaker list for the press conference changed? Where’s Eleanor?” Ian’s voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable edge to it.

Eleanor blinked in surprise. “VP Chase, I already handed it off to Faye, didn’t I?”

“I know, and Faye’s ready, but—” Byron hesitated, then pressed on, “Mr. Goodwin just called. He specifically requested you. He said this presentation is vital for Meridian Dynamics’ debut in the bio sector—we can’t risk anything going wrong.”

“Faye’s more than capable,” Eleanor replied, giving credit where it was due. Besides, she thought, Faye was practically family to Ian now; even if she made a few mistakes, with Vanessa in her corner, Ian would be forgiving.

Byron grew anxious. “Eleanor, this really is Mr. Goodwin’s decision. You know how much is riding on this launch. We can’t afford a single misstep.”

“I’m swamped. I don’t have time to prepare a speech. Sorry,” Eleanor said bluntly, then turned and walked out.

Byron stood there, sweat prickling his brow all over again. Why on earth was Eleanor refusing to take the stage?