“When all else failed, Michelle phoned his office and was told by his assistant that Chase wanted nothing more to do with her and to not call again,” Gwen said with a frown. “I’d like to get my hands on that young man and tell him a thing or two.”
“Chase Furst is the one who missed out,” Grams inserted. “He hurt himself as much as his mother.”
The others nodded in agreement.
All Maisy felt was a deepening sense of loss for the wonderful relationship Chase might have had with his mother if he’d been willing to forgive her for abandoning him.
“These funeral potatoes are the best I’ve ever had,” Grams said. “I’m going to see if I can find who made them and discover what she did to make them so good.”
Maisy grinned as her grandmother excused herself and went in search of the recipe.
Immediately, Maisy was plied with questions about what she knew about Chase. Sadly, the questions were ones she couldn’t answer.
Chapter Six
Chase sat at the Chicago Country Club bar sipping his vodka tonic while he waited for Astrid to join him. She’d been pleased with his hefty donation toward the renovation project. He’d written the check, signed his name, and handed it off with little emotion.
Chase had supported a variety of charities through the years. He felt it was his moral obligation to help those who were less fortunate. But he knew this wasn’t what Maisy had in mind, and it upset him that he had somehow disappointed her, although it was impossible that she would ever know. He’d paid her kindness forward and the country club would benefit.
Astrid set the time for them to meet and was never late. He recognized there were certain expectations on both sides of the family. It saddened him that he was about to disappoint both sides. Simon had encouraged the relationship, along withAstrid’s father. Simply put, Chase didn’t feel it. Hard as he tried, he couldn’t imagine spending the rest of his life with her. And he was convinced he wasn’t alone. Giving it over a year, he and Astrid had worked hard to create something meaningful out of this relationship, to no avail. Time and time again he worked to convince himself that he would grow to love her. It hadn’t happened, and he was fairly certain she felt the same. It was a testament to their efforts that they’d been together as long as they had.
Even more troubling was how his brief encounter with Maisy lingered on his mind. He’d thought more about her in the past week than he’d thought about anyone he’d met in his entire adult life. The urge to contact her and ask for suggestions on how best to fulfill her request was nearly overwhelming. He’d tracked down her contact information, and, weird as it sounded, he wanted to talk to her, to hear her voice again, which confused him. He had no idea why their brief encounter continued to play in his mind. She was nothing like the women who normally attracted his attention. Her complete lack of sophistication should’ve been off-putting, but somehow her Pollyanna attitude had been refreshing. Her appreciation for something as mundane as an airline meal would involuntarily float into his thoughts, and suddenly Chase found himself smiling.
It went without saying that any further communication with her was out of the question. She was already in his thoughts far more than warranted, and he didn’t want to take the chance of sending the wrong signal. He had nothing in common with Maisy, although he couldn’t avoid being curious about her.
Checking the time, he was surprised to see that Astrid was late. He reached for his phone, wondering if he’d missed a text.
Someone claimed the barstool beside him, and Chase saw that his companion was Astrid’s father.
“Evening, Harry,” Chase greeted. The two had a comfortable relationship. He appreciated that Harry was successful. He was a Wall Street broker with a portfolio of over a billion dollars in assets. Harry was personal friends with Warren Buffett and was well connected in the financial world. Merging their families held benefits for both sides, although Chase had heard rumors that Harry had recently made an unfortunate investment—nothing terribly serious, otherwise it would be common knowledge.
“Good evening,” Harry said cheerfully, as he motioned for the bartender and ordered a drink. “Astrid sent me to let you know she’s running behind schedule.”
“No worries. Our dinner reservation isn’t for another thirty minutes.”
“I’m sure she’ll arrive before then,” Harry told him. The older man sipped his martini and turned so that the two made eye contact. “You know how deeply Astrid cherishes your relationship, don’t you?”
Chase avoided responding. They were friends. It went without saying that Astrid was far and away the most intelligent, fun, caring woman he knew.
Harry took another sip of his drink before he asked a more pointed question. “How long have the two of you been dating now?”
Ah, so that was it. Harry was basically asking when Chase was going to move forward with his daughter and propose. His hackles went up, and he took a few moments to gather his thoughts before he responded.
“A little over a year now,” he answered in an even voice, doing his best to disguise his irritation at the less-than-subtle pressure. He held back from telling Harry this relationship had reached a dead end. He needed to clear the air with Astrid first before he said anything to her father.
“I don’t mean to be blunt, but then again, I suppose I do,” Harry continued in the same jovial mood he’d displayed earlier. “It’s time for you to make your move, young man. Astrid and you are a perfect couple. I don’t know what it is with young adults these days. No one seems to want to make a commitment. I say it’s time.”
It took all Chase’s determination to bite his tongue. He glared at the broker and carefully measured his words. “I believe this decision is one Astrid and I will make. I don’t appreciate the pressure, and I’m sure she doesn’t, either.”
“Now, now, there’s no need to overreact. I’m only saying her mother and I would appreciate knowing if we should start making wedding arrangements or not. From what Dori tells me, we should be working on the details a full year in advance, if not sooner.”
“Like I said, this is between Astrid and me,” Chase said, hoping that would put an end to this uncomfortable conversation.
“Of course. No harm intended.”
“None taken.”
Harry swiveled back to the bar and his martini. “Dori and I are blessed. I doubt that you’re aware that my wife could have had a career of her own and chose not to. Her degree is in psychology, and she could have been a huge success, had she chosen to pursue her field. She and Astrid are so much alike.”
