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

by Strauss, Lee

  “Are you getting hungry?” he asked.

  “A little.”

  “I’m starved. Let’s start dinner.”

  They’d been cooking together since her first lesson, and every night Micah taught her something new.

  “What’s on the menu tonight?” she asked.

  “Something simple. Mushroom soup. Just add water.”

  Micah paused at the table and picked up the fruit bowl that was nearly overflowing with coins and bills from Katja’s earnings. “This is not your usual center piece.” He handed it to Katja. “Please take this to your bank.”

  Katja shook her head. “It’s my contribution to the rent.”

  “Katja, I have enough money. I had no problem paying the rent before you came.”

  “What about groceries?”

  “I also ate before you came. And you don’t exactly eat that much. Besides, I prefer your company to eating alone. You’re doing me a favor.”

  Katja sighed and accepted the bowl. “Thank you.”

  Micah smiled. “No problem. I need somewhere to put the fruit.”

  Katja had the morning shift the next day and she made sure to leave with enough time to get there early. She enjoyed having time to make small talk with Renata before jumping into the fray of taking orders, foaming milk, cleaning the display case and wiping tables. She loved the aroma that hit her face as she walked in the door. Sweet scents of sugar and cinnamon combined with the stronger, stark aroma of rich, fresh brewed coffee.

  She greeted Renata as she tied on her apron. “I missed seeing you yesterday.”

  “It was so busy here. I couldn’t get away until later. You were already gone when I arrived, but Jonas said you were wonderful.”

  “Your son’s a good artist,” Katja said.

  “And a good person,” Renata added. “That is the most important thing.” She clasped Katja’s hand. “And how are you?”

  Katja had shared some details about the disastrous trip to Berlin and her following encounter with Micah’s antagonistic mother. Renata was also aware of her cautious reconciliation with Micah.

  Katja smiled reassuringly. “Things are fine. Good really.”

  “Ah, I’m so glad.”

  “How are things with you?”

  “Always the same.” Renata rolled her eyes. “Nothing is ever new with me, Schatz.”

  Maybe it was time to change that.

  “Renata?”

  “Yes?”

  “There’s an open mic night at the Blue Note tomorrow. I might play a song or two. You should come.”

  Renata pulled back and stared at Katja with wide eyes. “I don’t think so.”

  “Why not? It would be fun. It would be new.”

  “I have to work.”

  “Renata, you’re the boss. You can give yourself time off. Besides,” Katja resisted the conniving smile that wanted to lift up her lips, “you never know who you might meet.” Like a charming French bachelor, maybe.

  Renata’s brows furrowed into a V. “Are you trying to set me up?”

  “No, no,” Katja said too quickly. “Of course not. I just meant, I could introduce you to some of my friends.”

  Renata cocked her head. “Meet your friends?”

  “And hear music. You do like music, don’t you?”

  “Of course. Who doesn’t like music?”

  “Then come with me. Live a little, Renata.” She waved an arm at the shop. “You have to admit you could use a change of scenery.”

  Renata’s lips twitched, considering. “Okay, Schatze. But just because I’m very fond of you.”

  Katja smiled and gave her a quick hug. “Awesome.”

  Katja waited near the entrance of the Blue Note for Renata like they’d agreed. Micah had to work late, so he promised to join her later. Katja checked the time on her phone and frowned. Renata was late. Katja hoped she hadn’t changed her mind and bailed without letting her know.

  She smiled as other people passed by to enter the club, stepping out of the way, trying not to feel strange about loitering on the sidewalk alone. She stretched her neck, peering down the darkening street. The streetlights flickered on and cast shadows against the four-story stone buildings that lined the narrow road. Her eyes ran across the peeling posters on the wall across from her—band advertisements, festivals and markets. Some comingsoon, some long past.

  A woman rounded the corner dressed in jeans and a casual, billowing blouse. Her very unsensible shoes clacked on the cobblestone street as she crossed the road. She waved to Katja with a bemused grin.

  Katja’s mouth went slack. She barely recognized her friend. Instead of being pulled back in a low ponytail like she wore it every day at the coffee shop, her shoulder-length, salt and pepper hair hung in soft waves around her face. She wore a little eye makeup and peach-colored lipstick.

  “Renata! You look fantastic!”

  “Thanks. It’s been a while since I put in the effort. I feel a little self-conscious.”

  “Well, you don’t look it. You’re the epitome of confidence.”

  Katja linked arms with Renata and opened the door to the Blue Note to lead her in.

  Maurice stood at his usual place behind the bar. He had that teddy-bear look, rounder in the belly and cheeks, but he had a nice face and a friendly smile. He greeted Katja warmly when she walked in. “Ma Cherie! Good to see you!”

  “You too, Maurice. I want to introduce you to my friend, Renata Beck. She’s also my boss and the owner of the coffee shop near my building.”

  He held out a broad hand, and Renata shook it. “Nice to meet you,” he said. His eyes sparkled with sincerity, and Katja was satisfied to see that Renata responded by blushing.

  “Nice to meet you, too,” she said.

  “Are you up?” Maurice asked Katja. She nodded, and added her name to the list. Maurice left to talk to Holger who was setting up the sound for the open mic night.

  “So he’s the reason you wanted me to come?” Renata asked.

  “No, I mean, sure, but also to hear the music,” Katja said. “Right?”

  “Well, little miss matchmaker, don’t get your hopes up,” Renata responded with a grin and a shake of the head.

  “Why? You’re both respectable, likeable and eligible. You both own your own drinking establishments. And you both like to use pet names. Granted, yours are more varied.”

  “Hardly grounds for a relationship.”

  “Fine. But they’re great grounds for a friendship. You could be friends couldn’t you?”

  “Oh, ma Cherie,” Renata mimicked. “You are a worse romantic than I am.”

  Maurice returned and they ordered drinks. Katja excused herself conveniently with the guise that she had to use the ladies room. When she returned she chuckled. Her instincts were right. Maurice and Renata were in a close huddle, conversing animatedly over the noise of the chattering patrons and the music pumping in from the stereo.

  She mentally reviewed her to-do list. Renata + Maurice. Check.

  Once Katja decided to let herself be happy, she was very, very happy. She and Micah went on long walks and romantic picnics. They told stories and laughed. They hugged and kissed, and kissed some more. They cuddled on the sofa bed and watched romantic movies while eating candy and chocolates.

  She had a spring to her step and a smile plastered on her face. She constantly watched the clock, counting the minutes until Micah came home from work, resuming her place on the steps while she waited for him to round the corner.

  Renata gently teased her at work. “Schatz, you will blow out the windows with your joy.”

  “Let’s go out for dinner tonight,” Micah said on a Saturday morning. He pulled Katja close and kissed her neck. She groaned, stretching out for more.

  “I’m thinking highend,” he added between kisses. “Dress in something nice.”

  Katja straightened and pulled back. “I don’t have anything highend and nice.” He knew that.

  “Such a sad situation, tsk, tsk
.” His eyes lighted with a humor she didn’t share. “Oh, come on, let me take you shopping.”

  This kind of thing just reminded Katja of why she’d been tempted to break up with him in the first place. She wasn’t a sophisticated fashionista like his mother or his friend, Anna, from the bank. She felt herself shrinking back. “I don’t know.”

  “Please, Katja. This isn’t a sun and moon thing,” Micah persisted. “It’s just a thing.” He smiled encouragingly. “It’ll be fun.”

  She hated shopping. “For who?”

  He smirked. “For me!”

  Katja reluctantly relented and quickly grabbed her purse. If he thought she’d change out of her torn jeans just to impress the fancy dress shop workers, he had another thing coming. He opened the door and followed her out, and Katja got the distinct impression he was enjoying the view of her behind by the way he chuckled.

  She shot him a look over her shoulder. “Stop that!” She tried to sound stern, but she could hear the smile in her voice.

  Micah laughed. “What?”

  He took her to a swanky shop in the center of the old town, a place Katja would never have stepped foot in on her own.

  Micah helped to sort through the dresses despite the clerk’s thinly veiled disapproval, and she tried on a number of them, showcasing each one for him. If she could judge by the look on his face, he liked what he saw. She was aghast when she checked the price tags, but Micah swiped playfully at her hands, telling her not to worry. He bought her casual clothes, too: jeans and blouses, and a short, fun sundress.

  Katja wasn’t used to having brand new clothes. She wondered if deep down Micah was trying to change her, and it stirred up feelings of doubt.

  But the clothes were nice.

  “You’re spoiling me,” she said.

  “I want to spoil you. You deserve to have nice things.” He quickly added, “And that doesn’t mean I’m trying to change you.” Micah continued to prove his knack for mind reading. Or maybe he really did know and understand her.

  “But,” he continued. “I do have money, and I do like to spend it on, well, you. So don’t try to change me by trying to stop me.”

  Touché.

  She gripped his hand, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

  They went back to Micah’s flat to change and get ready. Katja chose the shimmery, little black dress. She examined her image in the bedroom mirror. With silver, strapped heels, and her hair piled in a messy up-do, she could easily pass for one of those uptown girls.

  When Micah checked in on her, his eyes popped, and his jaw slacked. Then he whistled. “Simply beautiful.” He grabbed her hand and tugged her, snapping her body to his. He rested his forehead on hers and inhaled.

  “You smell amazing.” His lips made a butterfly trail from her temple, over her cheekbone and to her lips as his hands explored her curves. She quivered under his touch, every neuron in her body resounding with a loud yes!

  He kissed the base of her neck in a way that made her knees give out. They fell on the bed, and she almost exploded. They kissed with a passion Katja had never experienced before. They were in his room, on his bed. They had pushed through the force field. Her hands trailed down his back, and his moved up her thighs. They moved together with a rhythm of passion, crescendoing and dipping, losing their breath, then finding room to breathe. Katja never wanted it to end.

  Still, there was a line Micah was not willing to cross. He ducked his head in the crook of her neck and took several long breaths. Then he pressed up on his elbow and stared at her. He ran a finger along her brow, pushing hair off her face.

  “You are so beautiful.” He kissed her forehead again. “But we have reservations.”

  She laughed. “I think I have to do my hair over.”

  He pulled her off the bed and playfully smacked her behind. “Get to it then. We don’t want to be late.”

  He took her to dinner at a place that had valet parking, chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and more cutlery around the plates than Katja knew what to do with. It was lovely, and the dining experience, delightful. This was a life she could get used to, she supposed.

  Micah’s eyes never left her face. She blushed under his scrutiny.

  “You’re making me nervous.”

  “I can’t help it. You are so exquisitely stunning. All the guys in this place are sneaking looks and half the ladies, too.”

  He smiled warmly and she smiled in return.

  Then he did something that made her heart stop. Micah stood, and suddenly he was kneeling beside her, a little black box appearing like magic in the palm of his hand. Her mind knew what was going on. She did watch American movies. But her heart refused to restart. She was certain she would faint. At the very least, she didn’t think she could stop herself from gaping unattractively. Her hand clasped over her mouth, and tears welled up behind her eyes.

  “Katja Stoltz, will you do me the honor of being my wife?”

  Katja stared hard at him, unable to make her lips move. “Yes,” she finally mustered. Then she burst out laughing. “Yes! A million times yes!”

  The crowd in the restaurant cheered, and Katja threw herself into Micah’s arms.

  “I love you,” he said.

  “I love you, too.”

  They kissed tenderly and then pressed each other away, keenly aware of the audience they’d acquired. They fed each other chocolate dessert, and Micah ordered Katja a glass of her favorite red wine. She ogled her ring finger, delighting in how the candlelight reflected off the diamond.

  They giggled like school children, and made plans.

  “Since you’ve obviously been thinking about this,” Katja said. “Do you have a date in mind?”

  “How does tomorrow sound?”

  She playfully smacked his hand. “Seriously?”

  He smiled crookedly. “I am serious, but, I concede it might take a little while to get a dress and all that. I’m okay with something small, unless you want big. Anything you want, Katja. Anything.”

  “Small is good,” she said. She really didn’t have anyone to invite other than her family and a couple childhood friends, Renata and Maurice, of course, and the few friends she’d made since moving to Dresden.

  She frowned. “Does your mother know?”

  Micah reached across the table and cupped her hands with both of his. “She’s well aware. I won’t lie and say she’s delighted, but she’s coming around. At the end of the day, she just wants me to be happy. And you make me happy.”

  And he made her happy. Extremely happy. Katja couldn’t remember a time when she felt so joyous, so giddy. One day soon she would be Frau Micah Sturm!

  After dinner, she leaned against Micah as he helped her back to the car park. She wasn’t used to walking in heels, and she gladly took the opportunity to be assisted by Micah. She waved her diamond ring under the streetlamps, stopping to ooh and ahh over the gem as it sparkled in the light.

  It was a short drive to their flat.

  Their flat!

  It was the first time Katja had thought of the flat as anything but Micah’s. Surely it was time for his room to be their room, too. A thrill of excitement charged up her spine. Their passionate preamble to the evening had only been an appetizer.

  They walked from the car toward the apartment building, hand in hand, stopping every few steps to kiss and giggle. She couldn’t peel her eyes off his face.

  That was why he saw her before she did.

  Sitting on their steps.

  A woman with long, wavy, sandy blond hair.

  All the blood drained from Katja’s head, and her legs nearly gave out. She held onto Micah’s arm for dear life.

  Greta.

  Greta’s eyes scanned Katja from head to toe, and then zeroed in on Micah. “I see you have a type.”

  Micah’s face had lost all color, his eyes wide like he was seeing a ghost. He was, and so was Katja.

  Greta approached, and Micah gestured to Katja without look
ing away from the lost girl’s face. “Wait for me inside.”

  Katja didn’t want to leave him alone with her. “Micah?”

  “I’ll be in in a minute.” He waved her off, but it felt like a slap in the face. Greta was there, and she was dismissed.

  Her legs trembled as she went up the steps, but once inside, she slipped off her heels and raced to their flat at the top. Her hand shook as she fussed with the key to unlock the door. She ran to the living room window and looked down at the sidewalk below.

  Micah and Greta stood face to face a quarter-meter apart. He threw his hands about, saying something passionately. She put palms out to calm him. Their lips moved and Katja wished desperately she could hear what they were saying.

  She hoped he was telling Greta about her, how he’d moved on and fallen in love with someone else. She hoped Greta would walk away, a final goodbye, and that Micah would look for her in the window and give her an encouraging smile.

  Her heart dropped when they started walking down the street, side by side.

  No, wait! Where are you going? Katja’s lungs burned as she watched, the back of Micah’s curly head and Greta’s long hair flowing down to her waist. It could’ve been Katja and Micah. The similarities between Greta and her were striking. And terrifying.

  They disappeared around the corner, and Katja’s heart ripped in half. She collapsed into a chair.

  They wouldn’t be gone for long, would they? Micah wouldn’t leave her waiting. Of course not. He loved her. He wanted to marry her.

  Greta was my first serious girlfriend. I would’ve married her.

  Micah had loved her once. He’d slept with her. They had a history.

  Greta.

  What was she doing here? Why wasn’t she dead?