Thank you, Mrs. Lasky,” I said staring at her without blinking. She was beautiful in a severe way that made me think of ice or the sharp edge of a knife. Her shiny, black hair and blood red lipstick gave her an otherworldly appearance, but I knew she very much of this world of football since, as the sole heir to the Halas legacy, she owned the Bears.
“I guess it’ll be good for the league to
have both of our teams playing,” she said as she took a sip of champagne from the thin flute in her hand, leaving a crimson print on the rim of the glass that matched the color of her pointed nails. There was nothing soft about Joanna Halas Lasky.
“I guess it will be,” I nodded, wondering why she’d stopped me. She’d been the biggest detractor, but now she seemed downright friendly — for her.
“Mr. Connor, it’s no secret that I don’t like you or your team,” she said staring at me without smiling. “I didn’t want you here, nor do I think you are what the NFL wants in terms of an owner, but the deed is done, so we must all live with this colossal mistake.”
“Don’t hold back, Mrs. Lasky,” I said dryly. “Tell me how you really feel.”
“I think I’ve said all I need to say,” she said as she turned and moved toward the group of Bears players who seemed to have been thoroughly charmed by my grandmother. Mrs. Lasky looked at the group with narrowed eyes and then snapped her fingers as she icily addressed them, “Boys, your coach needs to see you out on the terrace. Now.”
The young men nodded and bid my grandmother a fond farewell under the watchful eye of their owner before heading to the terrace. Gram watched them go with a smile and then turned to me as she said, “Nice boys, but their owner is a real bitch.”
“Gram!” I scolded looking around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. “You can’t say those kinds of things in public.”
“Why not?” she pushed back. “I’m 85, for God’s sake. I don’t have to impress these people.”
“I know, but I need them not to hate me any more than they already do,” I laughed as I wrapped an arm around her shoulder and kissed the top of her head. “You gotta help me out here.”
“David, your generation is soft,” she said as she drained the last inch of beer from her glass and then set it on one of the tables. “Back in my day, we said what we thought and dealt with the consequences. We didn’t spend time pussy-footing around the truth trying to make sure we didn’t hurt anyone’s feelings.”
“Gram, you know as well as I do, that’s not the issue here,” I said as I squeezed her shoulder. “It’s more complicated than that.”
“More complicated than telling the truth?” she said looking around the room for one of the roaming servers who’d been carrying trays of drinks all evening. “Dammit, where’s my drink?”
“Don’t you think you’ve had enough to drink?” I asked as I silently wished for the servers to steer clear of us. Gram wasn’t anything close to an alcoholic, but the more she drank, the more honest she tended to get.
“You’re a real pain in my ass, kid,” Gram said with a grin. “But I love ya anyway.”
I laughed aloud as I steered her toward the exit and my waiting limo. I’d gotten what I’d come for, and now I wanted to go home and contemplate my next move in the silence of my own space. I hated these kinds of events, but over the years, I’d learned that they were a necessary evil if I wanted people to support my projects, so I gritted my teeth and endured them. I scanned the room one more time hoping to see my small, wiry redheaded friend, but Finn was nowhere to be found.
“Did you say goodbye to everyone?” Gram asked as I helped her into the Lincoln.
“Gram, no one cares whether I’m there or not,” I sighed as I climbed in behind her. “All they care about is that my money is there.”
“I think you underestimate your importance, David,” Gram said shaking her head slowly. “Your father did the same thing, and it was his undoing.”
“I don’t underestimate myself, Gram,” I replied. “I just don’t care about the accolades from people who don’t know me, and I don’t give a shit about impressing them. I wanted the team. I got the team. End of story.”
“You’re not fooling me one bit, David,” Gram said as she patted my hand. “You care. Now Finn, maybe not so much, but you just don’t want anyone to know you care. You think they’ll see you as weak.”
“It’s Dax, Gram,” I sighed. “Not David. I go by Dax now.”
“Oh, please, get down off your high horse,” she said rolling her eyes. “I’m your Grandmother. I’ve spanked you.”
“Please don’t tell anyone about that!” I laughed as I grabbed her hand and squeezed it.
“Your secret’s safe with me, kid,” Gram said as she returned the squeeze.
Once I’d made sure she was tucked in for the night in the small, stone house she and my grandfather had bought back in 1951, I had the driver take me back to my apartment on Michigan Avenue and drop me off before I dismissed him for the night.
“You’re not going out again, Mr. Connor?” Geo asked as he held the door for me.
“Not tonight, Geo,” I said. “But I’m going to need you early tomorrow morning. We’ve got a lot of business to take care of and I need to get started early. Be here by six.”
“Yes, sir,” he nodded before closing the door and walking around the car. He waited until I was inside the building before he drove off, and I smiled in appreciation of his attention to details. This was one of the many reasons why he earned a salary that allowed him to buy a house in Oak Park and send his daughters to private schools. It was also the reason he’d been with me for more than a decade. I valued the people who were loyal and did their jobs well.