The man was fearless.

The woman was a worrier.

They were not compatible.

The only real thing they shared was their mutual greed.

The woman held her champagne flute aloft and smiled. The man clinked his flute against hers and liked the sound. A clear ping of crystal.

“So, is it a deal or not?” the woman asked.

“It has flaws.”

“Every plan has flaws. Flaws can be corrected,” the woman said.

“That’s true. I’m inclined to go along with it. But I think I need some reassurance.”

The woman set down her glass and reached over for her clutch bag. It was small and glittery and gold in color. She opened it. There was only one thing in the small bag. She withdrew the little packet and slid it across the table.

The man blinked, then blinked again as he looked inside the dark blue covers. At first he thought he was looking at a small stack of passports. What he was really looking at was a pile of old-fashioned bankbooks. Something in his brain clicked as he calculated the last stamped numbers. He pushed the little stack back toward the woman. She, in turn, deposited them in their nest inside the clutch bag.

“Well?”

“There’s over one million dollars on those books.”

“And I did it all myself. Imagine what we could do together. In five years, we could have a hundred times that amount of money. Offshore, of course. You look nervous,” the woman said.

The man sipped his champagne. “Only a fool wouldn’t be nervous. I’m not a fool. What you’re saying is that you require my organizational skills to continue, is that it?”

She hated to admit it, but she said, “Yes, that’s what I’m saying.”

The man remained silent long enough that the woman had to prod him. “It’s risky,” he said.

“Everything in life involves risk,” she said, finishing her champagne.

The waiter approached the table and poured more. She nodded her thanks.

The man raised his glass, smiled, and clinked it against hers. “All right…partner.”

“There is one thing,” the woman added. The man’s eyebrows lifted. “This is a five-year project, not one day longer. We need to agree on that right now. On December thirty-first, five years from now, our assets are divided equally. You go your way, I go my way. If you don’t agree to it, there’s no reason for us to stay here to eat the meal we ordered. I’ll leave now, and you can pay the check.”

“Why five years?”

“Because that’s my time line, my deadline.”

The man shrugged. “Okay. Should we shake hands or something?”

The woman reached into the pocket of her suit jacket and withdrew a tape recorder that was no bigger than a credit card. She smiled. “It’s on record. We don’t need to shake hands. Oh, look, here comes our food!”

An hour later, just as they were finishing their meal, the man asked, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

The woman twirled a strand of her hair as she stared across the table at the man she’d agreed to partner with. Her eyes narrowed slightly. “I don’t think so.” She let go of the hair between her fingers and started to crunch up her napkin and gather up her purse.