Patrick shook his head and continued. "A friend of mine got shot down in The Playground, and I missed getting killed at the same time by about three inches. Since then, I tried what I could to get out of the life, and keep myself on the right side of the law. I haven't always been able to, but on the other hand my arrest record is clean since I turned eighteen, mostly due to luck than anything else considering what I was mixed up with for three years. Your turn."
I chuckled darkly and ate another bite of my food, which had lost some of its delicious flavor. "I'm pretty much the opposite. My family is down in Florida, where my father owns three car dealerships in the upstate area, the biggest near Pensacola. Ah, after high school I wanted to find success on my own, so I came up here. My parents understand, even if Daddy doesn't really like it, but he's got my brother to take over the business when he's ready to retire. I think in a lot of ways they're a bit relieved that I moved up north anyway, I was always a PR disaster waiting to happen with them."
"How so?"
Shaking my head, I smiled and chewed my food. "Sorry, maybe the next time we get together. Let's just say that I don't exactly fit in around the Florida culture, even in the more openminded places like Tallahassee. But, I came up here, found myself comfortable for the first time, and have stayed. My parents and I don't really talk much any more, but that's more due to just lack of common ground than anything else. All right, my turn. What made you run for city council, and don't tell me my boss."
Patrick laughed and shook his head. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Go ahead. I've got quite the capacity for tall tales and bullshit. Besides, I may just be able to blow your mind as well with some of the things I've seen and done."
Setting his chopsticks aside, Patrick scooped up some of the leftover orange chicken into his tray, followed by some ginger pork. "Well, like I said I ran with a pretty rough crowd during my teen years. You noticed my tattoos yesterday, and I regret to say that some of them are associated with the Confederation. I'm ashamed to say that yes, for a while there I did some stuff for them. Thankfully nothing too extreme, but still, not exactly the sort of tales that I want to tell my future children. Anyway, even after getting out of the life, I worked in bars and around places that some of these Confederation guys would go to, and towards the end there, some of these guys started talking about one of their own who turned on his bosses, and had sworn to take them down. This guy, I never met him, he's about three or four years younger than me, and by the end, he was damn near mythical in terms of his aura. They say that even now he patrols through some of the neighborhoods, taking out the trash and keeping the city clean. That, combined with what Marcus Smiley started doing, kind of were the sparks that started to lift the city out of the crap it was drowning in. So when Harry Vickers was caught up in the ruckus, I just thought that it was my turn to start making a difference. I went around to the guys I knew, the folks in the area who didn't think I was a total loser, and found that more than a few of them were willing to sign the petition I needed to get signed to get on the special ballot. Gene, the GM of the Spartans you met yesterday, actually was my first donor, giving me the money out of his own pocket to pay the registering fee, and the rest, well, I'll be honest it's so crazy I can barely keep track of it all in my mind. I know I've done a lot of talks on street corners, attended a few prayer breakfasts and school PTA meetings, stuff like that. The funniest was when I somehow wrangled an invitation to talk to the members of the Nation of Islam Mosque over in Filmore Heights. I think I was the first person of Irish descent to speak there in years, if ever."
I laughed, and realized I was enjoying my lunch again. "I bet. Not too many McCafferys in the NOI. How'd that one go?"
"Pretty good, once I relaxed. They even had me as a guest for their luncheon afterwards, although I didn't get any donations cash-wise," Patrick said laughing. "Put it this way, I'd rather have the NOI come by my office than the visitor I had after our little press event."
"Oh, who was that?"
"Francine Berkowitz. Let's just say she's a lot more dangerous than some of the Confederation people I used to run with."
I nodded. "I've heard. Marcus told me he had a few run-ins with her, but he honestly didn't give a damn. Then again, he only has to worry about money, not vote counts or public polling."
"Exactly."
The rest of our lunch went on with a relaxed, casual feeling, and by the end, we were both giving each other little glances. As we finished the last fortune cookie, I noticed that it was already nearly two o'clock, and that Vanessa had knocked on the door frame twice, dropping off things on my desk. "Wow, the time," I said, setting my drink aside. "I'm sorry if I kept you from any appointments."
"No, I cleared my calendar mostly," Patrick replied as he also scooted backwards to stand up. "Uh, I know this isn't exactly business professional, but I was wondering, would you maybe like to get together some time?"
"You mean like a real date?" I asked, trying not to laugh. "I'd love to. But, one rule."
"What's that?" Patrick asked.