Sun & Moon - a contemporary romance (The Minstrel Series #1) (30 page)

“Let’s keep looking.”

They started walking, and Micah asked, “Have you contacted her friends? Maybe she’s gone to one of their homes?”

Katja let out a soft groan. “She doesn’t have any friends. She should have, but she’s… afraid, and since I’ve been back, I think I’ve instilled even more fear, not less. She should have friends. Our lives are so messed up.”

This time it was Katja’s phone ringing. “Mama?”

“She’s here, Katja. She’s safe.”

“Oh, thank God. Where was she?... Henni’s? What was she doing there? No wait. I’ll be home shortly.”

She looked at Micah, and her eyes glistened. Tears of gladness. “She’s safe.”

“That’s good,” he said. “That’s really good.”

“Yes, it is. And now I have to go home and kill my friend.”

When they got back, Katja rushed to Sibylle and squeezed her tight. “You scared me.”

“I’m sorry, Katja,” she whimpered. “I was just watching TV with Henni.”

Katja glared at her neighbor. “How could you?”

“What? I just came to talk to you and found Sibylle watching TV alone,
again
. I felt sorry for her. I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

“You could’ve left a note or sent me a text or something.”

“I figured Sibylle would be back here before you or your mother got home. I didn’t know Gisela was sleeping.”

Katja heard the word Henni left off this time.
Again
.

Katja guided Sibylle to the sofa and sat down with her. “Next time, just tell me.”

“Geez, we didn’t even leave the building.” Henni took in Micah, her gaze running up and down his body and landing back on his eyes. She smiled and extended a hand. “I’m Henni, Katja’s lousy friend and neighbor.”

“Micah. Pleased to meet you.”

Henni’s mouth formed a small circle.

Micah grinned. “Yes,
that
Micah.”

“Well, if you all don’t need me anymore,” Henni said, heading for the door, “I think I’ll make myself scarce. Bye.”

Now that the emergency was over, Katja didn’t know what to do. Micah stood with his hands clasped. She sat pressed next to Sibylle with her arms circled around her.

Gisela sat in the chair opposite watching them. She stood and approached Micah, and Katja wondered what she’d say. Would she chase him out now?

Instead, she surprised her with this: “Thanks so much for your help today, Micah. Would you like to stay for
Mittage Essen?”

Katja’s jaw dropped. Her mother invited him to lunch? She had to be kidding.

The moment felt surreal with the four of them, Katja with her mother and sister, and Micah Sturm, sitting around their small kitchen table in dim lighting, eating veal cutlets and potato salad.

The veal was overcooked and the potatoes not cooked enough. Micah was every bit a gentleman, complimenting Gisela on her cooking, but Katja knew that Micah would blow them both out of the water with his own version of the same meal.

It was her day to be mortified and humiliated in every way possible, it seemed.

“Katja tells me you’re in banking,” Gisela said. “From a family of bankers.”

“This is true. It’s not the most exciting work, but I’m grateful for it.”

Gisela just hummed.

“So, Katja.” Micah placed his fork down and looked at her. “There was a reason I stopped by the café earlier. I have something I want to tell you.”

Katja nibbled her lip ring. Apparently finding her scrubbing floors like a common maid—worse actually, Micah hired maids, and they never had to get on their hands and knees—hadn’t dissuaded him. He could’ve bolted a long time ago, and yet he remained. She nodded for him to continue.

“I’m friends with a movie producer in town, and I gave him your CD. He makes independent films and is always looking for soundtrack music.”

Katja’s throat suddenly went dry. She took a long drink from her glass of water. “Um, that’s an old CD now.”

“I told him that. He listened anyway and really liked it. Wants to know if you have anything new he can hear.”

Katja shook her head. She had new material, but there was no way she could afford to record again.

Micah steadied his gaze on hers. “I know what you’re thinking.”

“Ha,” she scoffed. “You read minds now,too?”

“I think I can read your mind.”

“Really?”

“I want to underwrite your next CD. Consider it an investment.”

“A high-risk investment.”

“I like to take risks.”

“Since when?”

“Since I met you.”

Katja lifted her fork to her mouth and chewed the tough meat, taking her time to swallow. Micah was full of surprises.

Gisela rubbed her arm. “It sounds like a good opportunity.”

Katja pushed back from the table. “Would you excuse us?” She motioned for Micah to follow her out into the hall. The aroma of their meal followed them and mingled with the smells emanating from the other flats.

She hooked her fingers into her belt loops. “Why are you doing this?”

“I want to show you that I get it now, why you need to do your art. It’s who you are.”

Did he really? Or was he just saying what he thought she wanted to hear. “But I’ve already given it up.”

“If that were true, you wouldn’t still be gigging.”

Katja folded her arms and glanced away. If she did this, she would be tied to Micah for a long time. She didn’t know if she could survive that.

“You’re really good, Katja, and I want to help you. I’ve already booked studio time.”

Her head snapped up. “I have a job, you know. I can’t just leave whenever.”

“I spoke to Matthias, and he told me your hours so I could book around them.”

“You spoke to Matthias?”

“Yeah. He’s cool. He’s glad you have this chance to record.”

“Even though it means I’ll be spending time with you?” she asked incredulously. He really must’ve moved on.

“I told him I’d do anything to help you, to make you happy. He wants the same thing.”

Katja pressed her fingertips to her forehead. How did her life get so completely out of control?

“Okay, I’ll do it. But not because you want me to, or because Matthais wants me to, but because I want to.”

“Great. The first session is in three days.”

“Fine. Text me the address, and I’ll meet you there.” She paused at the door before entering. “And don’t try to call me in the meantime.” She left him standing in the hall, and rushed passed the startled faces of her mother and sister to her room.

Katja spent the next three days stewing. Whether she was at work, or at home, or lying awake at night in her bed, she couldn’t get Micah off her mind.

Why did he have to show up? She had everything under control. She’d given up her dreams, and had accepted her role as caregiver to her mother and sister. Their needs came first and she was willing to wash dishes and scrub floors if that was what it took. She might have gone back to school someday, became a secretary or something. She was happy enough to play her guitar just for fun. She liked hanging out with Matthias, and maybe one day she would’ve had room in her heart to be more than just friends with him.

Damn Micah Sturm! He’d ruined everything.

Now her heart wanted things she knew were bound to disappoint and hurt her. It wasn’t too late for her to change her mind. Micah promised he would go if she asked him to.

She decided then, as she tossed and turned the night before her first studio session, that was what she’d do. She’d cancel her sessions, tell Micah to leave and pick up the pieces that remained of her heart and keep going.

Katja groaned at her image in the mirror the next morning. The bags beneath her eyes betrayed her. She did her best to make herself presentable, choosing her best jeans, a fine-knit sweater and a pair of fashionable winter boots she’d recently splurged on. A little makeup went a long way. She brushed her hair out, deciding to leave it loose, and even put on a pair of hoop earrings.

She didn’t know why she cared about how she looked if she was just going to say goodbye, but the memory of her in her bakery uniform and her disheveled appearance from the last time Micah saw her burned in her mind. She still had some pride.

She hugged her mother and kissed Sibylle’s forehead on her way out.

“Have fun,” Gisela said. Katja didn’t have the heart to tell her she wasn’t going through with it.

The studio was on the edge of a residential area at the back of a brick building. If she hadn’t had the address, she’d never have known it was there. It made her think it couldn’t be much of a studio.

Micah crossed the room when he saw her arrive, his face washed with relief like he thought she might not come. “Hey,” he said. “Come have a look around.” He didn’t waste time on pleasantries, like he knew he had to get his words in quickly before she could say hers.

The studio was more impressive on the inside. The walls had folded molding, like a large deck of cards tented on its side, that deadened the sound. The soundboard and instruments all looked top notch. A glass partition separated the sound engineer from the vocal microphone. There was a separate room for the drums.

“This is Felix,” Micah said, pointing to the guy in the engineer’s chair. “He’s your producer.”

Felix stood, tall and lanky, with long hair pulled back into a low pony tail. He reached for her hand. “So good to meet you. I’ve heard your stuff. I can’t wait to get started.”

Katja frowned. Micah was smooth. “Actually,” she started, “I wasn’t…”

Micah grabbed both of her shoulders, ducking low, forcing her to look at him. “You’re here now. You might as well record one track.”

It was like he knew she was going to bail. “How…”

“You arrived without your guitar.”

The guy was just so attentive to her. How could she say no? “One song.”

Micah guided her into the vocal booth and closed the door behind him. She mentally reviewed her repertoire. It was hard to choose. All her best songs were about Micah. She placed her hands on her hips and admitted, “I don’t know which one to do.”

“Do the one you sang the other night,” Micah said.

Katja glanced at him, surprised. “You know I sang that song because I thought it would hurt you.”

“It did hurt me, but it also encouraged me.”

She was stunned. “How so?”

“It’s called, ‘Don’t Go.’”

Katja slumped onto the studio sofa. Micah sat tentatively beside her. “Are you all right?”

“I don’t get you,” she said. “You could have any girl. There are a lot of pretty, intelligent girls in your…” She waved a hand, “… class. They don’t have the baggage I carry.”

“I don’t want those girls. Katja, listen to me. Besides being immensely attractive, you are a good, decent person. I know you don’t believe that about yourself, but it’s true. You’re selfless and kind. You make me want to be a better person. You taught me to hope.

“None of those girls come close to what you are to me. Especially a certain one I refuse to name.”

He reached for her hand, and she let him take it. “I love you. I’ve never stopped.”

A lump had grown in Katja’s throat, and she found it hard to swallow.

“Please,” Micah pleaded. “Say something.”

“I really want to kiss you.”

Micah huffed, his face bright with relief. “I think that’s a fantastic idea.”

His lips touched hers and her body exploded. She responded eagerly, like she hadn’t had anything to drink in days and Micah was a cold glass of water. Her lips inhaled his. His tongue played with her lip ring.

“Do you like it?” she asked between kisses. “You’ve never said.”

“It’s very sexy.” His mouth ran along her jawbone, down her neck, and she shuddered under his touch.

“I love you, Micah Sturm.”

He paused, and then his lips trailed back to hers. “You don’t know how desperate I’ve been to hear you say those words.”

“Then I better say them again. I love you.”

Micah slipped to the floor, kneeling, and Katja wondered what he was doing. He reached into his pocket. “I’ve been carrying this around since the day you left, hoping I’d have another chance to give it to you.”