He ate quickly, his aim just to fill his stomach before driving into the city to meet with his best friend—and banker. As Mike scraped the leftovers into the garbage disposal he wondered what Richard’s reaction would be.

Mike suspected he’d be supportive of his rather unconventional decision. Richard might look conservative, but underneath he was anything but. You didn’t get to be CEO of an international bank before the age of forty by being meek and mild. Richard had his ruthless side, especially when it came to making money. And as crazy as Mike’s scheme might sound, if it succeeded, it was going to make both of them very wealthy men.

Five minutes later, Mike slipped on his favourite black leather jacket and headed for the front door. Half an hour later, he was sitting in Richard’s office.

‘What do you mean you didn’t see Helsinger?’ Richard’s tone was more confused than angry. ‘I thought you’d lined that meeting up before you left Sydney.’

‘Unfortunately, Chuck was called out of town the day I arrived in LA,’ Mike told him. ‘He left his apologies. A family emergency.’

‘Hell, Mike. That was bad luck.’

‘No sweat. I met with his managing director, instead. He assured me Comproware were still very interested in my new anti-virus, anti-spyware program.’

‘Yes, I’m sure they are,’ Richard said drily. ‘It’s brilliant.’

Mike wholeheartedly agreed with Richard. It was brilliant, especially the way it could track back to see where the virus—or the spy—came from, then deliver a counter-strike of its own. Mike had known, right from the first day he’d started work on the ground-breaking program, that his own relatively small, Australian-based software company didn’t have the power to do such a product justice. He needed an international company with marketing clout to launch it, worldwide.

After doing some indepth research, he’d come up with Comproware, a relatively new American software company that had great marketing flair, and which also had a reputation for offering generous contracts to the creators of new programs and games, paying royalties instead of a flat sum.

After some not-so-successful negotiating via the internet and the telephone, Mike had flown to Comproware’s head office in America to meet the owner face to face. He’d expected to pin Helsinger down to a contract during his two-day stopover. He certainly hadn’t expected what had transpired, or the path he’d now set himself upon.

‘I didn’t get a contract,’ he admitted. ‘What I did get, however, was the offer of a possible partnership.’

‘A partnership!’ Richard exclaimed excitedly. ‘With Chuck Helsinger? You’ve got to be kidding. That man’s a retail legend. Everything he touches turns to gold. A partnership with him has to be worth millions.’