No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 474

Henrietta smiled warmly. “Not at all! In fact, I just had the housekeeper pick up some groceries.”

Vivian and Evelyn climbed into Eleanor’s car together, heading toward the townhouse near Xavier’s place.

Meanwhile, Henrietta settled into the passenger seat and called her son.

“Hey, Mom! What’s up?”

“Come home for dinner tonight.”

“Mom, you know how swamped I am—I've got a video meeting tonight!”

“If you skip dinner tonight, you’ll regret it.” Henrietta gave a little huff. Her son was always so busy he barely showed his face; she couldn’t help feeling a little annoyed.

“And why exactly would I regret it?” Xavier asked, curiosity piqued.

Henrietta deliberately drew out her words. “Because I’ve invited Evelyn over for dinner. Eleanor will be there, too.”

There was a sudden scraping sound from Xavier’s end, like a chair being pushed back. His voice came back, bright with surprise, “Mom, why didn’t you say so earlier? I’m heading home right now!”

“What about your video call?”

“Not important. Do you want me to pick anything up on the way?”

“Pick up some fruit—Eleanor’s favorites,” Henrietta said, her satisfaction obvious.

Back in Eleanor’s car, the two kids chattered away in the back seat, energy bubbling over.

Eleanor glanced at her daughter’s beaming face and couldn’t help but smile. Work had been overwhelming lately, and she realized she’d been neglecting time with her little girl.

They arrived at the most exclusive neighborhood in the old part of town and parked. Eleanor took the kids’ hands and ushered them into the elevator.

Henrietta was already waiting at the door.

“Eleanor, come in! Make yourself comfortable,” she greeted them cheerfully, saying nothing about Xavier’s imminent arrival.

At that moment, Xavier was weaving his way through traffic, heading home from the office. Henry’s name flashed on his dashboard screen; he answered on speaker.

“Hey, Xavier! I booked us a table for tonight. Come relax with us!”

“Can’t make it tonight,” Xavier replied.

“Where are you off to?”

“Home for dinner.”

“Come on, we could eat out! The food’s better than whatever you’ll get at home!”

Xavier chuckled. “Eleanor and Evelyn are coming over for dinner. Tell me that’s not worth rushing home for?”

There was a stunned silence on the other end. “Alright, alright! Rain check.”

Xavier hung up, a smile tugging at his lips.

Back at Eleanor’s place, her phone buzzed on the couch. Evelyn, playing nearby, glanced at the screen and saw Joslyn’s name. She picked up without hesitation. “Hi, Auntie!”

“Evelyn, why aren’t you and your mom home yet?”

“Auntie, don’t worry about dinner for us. We’re eating at Vivian’s house tonight.”

“Alright, got it.” Joslyn’s gentle laughter came through the phone.

Eleanor didn’t hide the story about how she had once helped the mayor’s mother. Xavier listened, surprised—he had no idea Eleanor had such a connection to the city’s first family.

Meanwhile, back at Eleanor’s house, Princess, the golden retriever, was napping on the floor. Suddenly, her ears perked up. She let out a happy whine and bolted toward the yard, tail wagging. Joslyn paused. Was Eleanor home already? It wasn’t even seven yet!

Joslyn headed to the door, but instead of Eleanor, the doorbell chimed.

Not Eleanor after all.

She checked the video intercom and saw a handsome face on the screen. She hurried to answer the door. “Oh! Mr. Carter, what brings you here?”

Ian gave a polite smile. “Is Evelyn home? I wanted to see her.”

Joslyn hesitated. “I’m afraid Mrs. Summers and Evelyn aren’t home right now.”

“Where did they go?”

Without thinking, Joslyn replied, “Mrs. Summers took Evelyn to Mr. Vaughn’s for dinner.”

Ian’s expression turned instantly cold, his voice crisp. “Is that so?”

Joslyn clapped a hand to her mouth, realizing she’d said too much.

“I think Evelyn just wanted to play with Vivian—” she tried to explain.

“I see.” Ian turned, yanked open his car door, and slid inside. His black sedan shot out of the driveway like a bullet.

Joslyn jumped, startled. Was he… angry?

Surely not. Right?