Writing Challenge 4 - Entry 1

I carefully poured my steaming Kopi Luwak into the cup. I was looking forward to my rich cup of coffee this morning, as last night had been a little too fun and I needed something to clear the cobwebs from my head.

I watched as the beautiful black brew filled the cup, listening to its glorious sound echo through the quiet kitchen. My hand jolted when there was a sudden knock at the door. I hissed a word of irritation as the coffee spilled onto the counter, leaving several drops on the granite counter top.

I was downright annoyed. I wasn't worried about the mess or the waste. Though Kopi Luwak was among the highest priced coffees in the world, it was also, in my opinion, the best. And the high price only served to prove it. I carefully mopped up the spill with an embroidered hand towel, not caring that it was white and Margaret would have a devil of a time getting the stain out.

I opened the door to a woman standing with two young children. I couldn't tell how old they are, as I try to avoid people's offspring at all costs. The woman was holding one by the hand, a girl with large brown eyes that blinked at me. The other was a boy, and was securely held against the woman's hip. He had tousled brown hair, and light gray eyes brimmed with tears. He was sucking on his fist, obviously upset about something.

"Yes?" I asked her impatiently. She came unexpected. I don't like surprise visitors. The sooner I got rid of this woman and her spawn the sooner I could get back to my cup.

"Hello, William," she said evenly.

"Do I know you?"

"I should hope so, after that night we spent in Rio four years ago."

I looked at her carefully, really seeing her for the first time since I opened the door. Bleach blonde hair that fell to her shoulders, satiny, wispy. She pushed a lock of it out of her face, clearly revealing her large brown doe eyes. Now I remembered. Rita from Rio. That had been a fun night.

And then it struck me. The reason why she was here. I looked at the children again. The girl strongly resembled her mother. She had a natural light bronze to her skin, and her light brown hair was pulled tight into pigtails. But the boy...under the glisten of tears in his eyes I could see the careful determination, the stubbornness. He had my eyes. These kids were mine.

My vision feathered around the edges and the people in front of me became distorted. My head was spinning. I gripped the doorknob tightly to keep my balance. My...children? No. No, it can't be. This would ruin everything. Everything I had worked so hard to gain. I couldn't settle down – I had a reputation. No...