With Love, Elena

2

The office door burst open a few days later and Charles looked up only to be met by the fuming face of his father. Charles Snr. was a hefty giant of a man with a handlebar moustache like Mr. Ford. He was dressed exquisitely in a custom made 3 piece suit with a waistcoat and his very red face looked even more intimidating than usual as he closed the door behind him.

"What the hell do you think you are doing, boy?!" he growled, not bothering himself with greetings.

Charles closed the accounting book he was currently auditing, looking at his father. "Good afternoon to you too, father."

Charles Snr. growled in reply. "Your mother tells me that you broke off your engagement to Beatrice Ford," he said, slightly calm as he grabbed a seat. "I thought you loved her."

"I do love her," Charles replied.

"Then why did you break off the engagement?"

"She's pregnant and it's not mine."

Charles Snr. cursed out loud. "So what? Nobody knows that. You're just going to leave her because she's pregnant with some bastard's child? Nobody would ever know, Charles. Look, sometimes you have to overlook the little things and work past all that. You're standing to lose the woman you love as well as a fortune from her family. I thought you wanted to be more successful than me?"

"Pregnancy is no little thing. I am not raising someone else's child when I am capable of making my own. I'll make my fortune some other way."

Charles Snr. nodded. "Are you sure this is what you want, Charlie? I mean..."

"The decision is mine to make, Father. Beatrice is not an option anymore. She can go and raise her child with it's father. We shall continue doing business with Mr. Ford if he so wishes but other than that, I owe that family nothing. Are we done here?"

Charles Snr. nodded. "If you're sure, boy."

Charles smiled. He did not think his father would be this understanding but he was glad. "Anyway...I have been balancing the books over here and we are making profit so..."

The rest of the day the spent poring over some books and having their father and son time.

.

The bar was filled as the drunk Charles watched his mates singing some song about spanish pirates who dressed like women drunkenly loudly, their mugs of beer raised high in the air.

His close ginger haired friend, Osam, stumbled over, still singing loudly. He slumped into the chair and looked at Charles.

"What are you moping about?" he asked, taking a long swig from the mug.

"Life," Charles sighed.

Osam nodded understandingly. "That beautiful girl, Beatrice, huh? Look man, I know you are heartbroken but you have two choices here. Either you move on or you go back to her. Simple. And you still won't tell me why you broke up with her when you two were so perfect together."

Charles drank deeply from his mug. To preserve her reputation, he had decided not to disclose the reason why he and Beatrice had gone their separate ways. The separation was eating him up inside but he was determined to move on, even if that meant having to move away from this place to be far away from her because seeing her did not help matters.

"Look, how about we connect you with someone? Someone from a different country or district or whatever?"

"I have always wanted to go to France. I hear the ladies there are most beautiful and they are not very shy with their bodies."

Osam shook his head. "No. You don't have to travel. Have you heard of correspondence ads?"

"What are those?"

"I heard about these in America. We advertise you in the newspapers. 'Single, handsome man with money looking for a fair skinned lady to spend life with.' And then women answer your newspaper ad and the fun thing is that you can even get a reply from someone as far as oceans away. She may not speak your language but that is better because your wife will be quiet and not annoy you like mine. Every single day, "Osam, why are you coming home at this time? Osam why this? Osam why that?" Man, your foreign wife will not be up your arse every day and night."

Charles laughed. "How do I do this correspondence?"

Osam immediately grabbed him by the hand and walked the short distance to his printers where he ran a newspaper. He opened the door and led them to his office, immediately grabbing a pencil and a piece of paper and handing them to Charles.

"Describe yourself as well as the woman you want. You are allowed to mention if you like..." Osam cupped his hands to his breasts. "...big or small breasts. I personally prefer melons with big nice pink areolas."

Charles chuckled. "Hmm...let us see." He started writing. "I am a very tall handsome man with short hair and a short beard, aged 32, single, no cat or dog or children, I have a lot of money that I don't know how to spend but if I find the woman of my dreams, who is absolutely nothing like Beatrice, I am willing to spend it on her."

"Perfect," Osam laughed, belching. "Now describe the woman of your dreams."

"What is the opposite of Beatrice?"

Osam laughed harder. "Well, short haired, darker skin because Beatrice was very very fair skinned, almost pale. Black hair, dark eyes, big sexy juicy lips, big boobs and a fat arse and wide hips. Must be able to take care of a man in all ways. Absolutely no child and must be between the ages 20 and 34."

Charles clapped his hands before writing all those down. He looked at his list then handed it over to Osam who quickly used his fancy english to type out the ad.

"I emphasized on the fact that you are very rich. Women like rich men. And those interested can write to the paper."

"Perfect!" Charles said excitedly. "Now, let's go and finish up our beers. This was a very nice joke. Thank you."

Osam laughed as he tossed the paper on to the pile that was supposed to be trashed by the cleaner the following morning.

However, the following morning when the cleaner got in, she saw the paper and after scanning it, she had a small laugh before placing it on top of the stack that was to be published in the newspaper.

She thought the paper was a little quip to help the newspaper to sell more.

And funny enough, she wasn't wrong.