No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 835

The more understanding Selma sounded, the more guilt gnawed at Henry. He ran a hand through his messy hair, at a complete loss for how to fix his mistake.

"I'll make it up to you," he finally said before hanging up.

Henry stood frozen for a moment, then collapsed onto the sofa, burying his face in his hands.

—

Meanwhile, at the lab, Eleanor went to visit Joel's new civilian projects facility, which was in a separate building. Joel had just received a shipment of new equipment and had asked for her help in calibrating it.

Ian had made a significant initial investment in the project, and Joel had been working overtime, looking noticeably thinner.

"Joel, you need to take care of yourself, too," Eleanor advised him.

The pressure was immense. The task Ian had given him left no room for error.

Faye was sent over with a stack of documents. As she approached Joel's office, she saw Eleanor and Joel through the partially open door, chatting as they worked on a new piece of machinery.

Eleanor was leaning over, her fingers moving expertly across the control panel as she explained something to Joel.

Joel listened with rapt attention, nodding and smiling, the admiration in his eyes impossible to miss.

Faye stopped dead in her tracks, her hands tightening on the papers she held. *Eleanor again.*

Watching Eleanor stand before the massive machine, looking so delicate yet radiating such power, as if the complex equipment would bend to her will, Faye felt a familiar sting of resentment.

She had fought so hard just to get a foot in the door of Joel's project, even as a glorified assistant, yet Eleanor, who wasn't even on the team, could walk in and work alongside him as an equal.

Joel's words echoed in her mind: *"If Eleanor had taken this test, she would have received a perfect score."*

"Joel, here are the documents you wanted," Faye announced, stepping into the room.

"Leave them in the conference room. We'll need them for the meeting later," Joel said without looking up.

Eleanor remained focused on her work, and Faye, feeling dismissed, left the room.

At lunchtime, Eleanor and Faye crossed paths again at the elevator. A few new lab assistants were standing nearby. Faye forced a smile. "Eleanor, you're so brilliant. You know everything. It must be nice having such a talented father."

Her words caught the attention of the others. So that was the secret to Eleanor's success—nepotism.

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