No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 1526

Eleanor froze for a split second, but Ian simply shot her a charming smile as they both shook the principal's hand. This was neither the time nor the place for Eleanor to launch into a complicated correction. The principal, a man in his early fifties from Montclair, was highly respected and had an extensive background in international education.

Evelyn was handed over to a gentle foreign homeroom teacher who guided her toward her new classroom. Eleanor waved goodbye, watching her daughter's retreating figure with a heart full of pride and a heavy dose of maternal worry.

It was a massive transition. As a parent, the anxiety was unavoidable. She worried about whether Evelyn would adjust well, and simultaneously felt the stinging reality of her little girl growing up and stepping away from her.

Once Evelyn was out of sight, Eleanor and Ian walked shoulder-to-shoulder back toward the parking lot.

"Do you need a ride to the lab?" Ian offered.

"No, it's fine. You should get to the office," Eleanor replied, not wanting to monopolize his schedule. She was acutely aware of the pressure he was under, especially now that she knew he was the sole financial backer behind her twenty-billion-dollar research grant.

"Alright. I'll drive you back to the house to get your car. Be careful on the road. Lanny will tail you in his vehicle," Ian agreed smoothly.

Warmth bloomed in Eleanor's chest. "Thank you."

Ian's tone was casual as he added, "Don't let the principal's little misunderstanding earlier bother you."

"I know," she replied evenly.

A beat of silence passed. Ian clearly didn't get the reaction he was fishing for. He was deliberately testing her boundaries, but she genuinely didn't seem fazed by the 'Mrs. Goodwin' title.

"So... I'll come pick Evelyn up this afternoon. You don't have to rush back," Ian pivoted smoothly, regaining his usual authoritative composure.

"Sounds good. Thanks for handling it," Eleanor nodded.

But a certain CEO was apparently losing his grip on his cool facade.

"Does it bother you? When people call you 'Mrs. Goodwin'?" Ian's fingers tightened visibly on the steering wheel. His eyes remained locked on the road, but his peripheral vision was zeroed in on Eleanor's profile.

Eleanor was looking out the passenger window. The morning sun slanted through the glass, dancing across her long, curled eyelashes, but it couldn't hide the mischievous glint in her eyes or the subtle, triumphant curve of her lips.

Ian's eyes narrowed. Was she... smiling?

She was doing this on purpose.

The sting of rejection vanished instantly, replaced by a surge of heat. Being played with by her was infinitely more intoxicating than her putting up a wall.

Eleanor had absolutely done it on purpose. The harder he pushed for a confession, the more a rebellious streak flared up inside her, making her want to push back just to see what he would do.

But when the car suddenly lurched to a halt, she instinctively turned to look at him. She collided with a pair of deep, intensely amused eyes. He saw right through her.

"What are you staring at? Drive, I'm going to be late for my meeting," she ordered, though the rising heat in her cheeks totally betrayed her.