Page 71 of Bitter Beats

“Caring,” I tack on.

“You sound smitten.” Allegra’s eyes dance.

I snort but don’t deny her statement. A part of me feels smitten with Maverick Tate. Especially tonight, all dressed up and out in the city, with a man like Mav by my side.

“He helped me put on my shoes!” I say, half in explanation, half in defense.

Allegra chuckles, her laughter soft.

“Cheers, ladies!” The man beside her turns toward us and lifts his fresh drink in our direction. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” I say, clinking my glass against his.

“Who are you here for?” he wonders.

“The Burnt Clovers,” Allegra replies. “You?”

“I’m staff.” He shrugs.

“You work for the label?” I ask to clarify.

“I do.” He smirks. He’s probably in his early forties but gives off an easygoing charm that makes him appear younger. “Christian Carrington. Lowly lawyer.”

Allegra laughs. “Lowly? I doubt that. I’m Allegra, and this is Mckenna. She’s in law school.”

“Are you?” Christian’s eyes flash. “What year?”

“I’m in 3L,” I reply.

He grins. “You’re nearly there. Now the hard part begins.”

I groan. “You mean law school wasn’t the hard part?”

“Damn, I thought the LSATs were the worst of it,” Allegra mutters.

Christian shakes his head. “What type of law are you interested in pursuing?”

“Entertainment,” I reply.

“Ah, then, I might be able to help.” He reaches into his suit pocket and pulls out a business card.

He passes it to me, and I glance at his embossed name and title.

“General Counsel?” I sputter.

Christian smirks.

“Lowly, my ass,” Allegra jokes.

“If there’s anything I can help with as you navigate the job hunt”—Christian tips his head toward me—“please, reach out. My cell number is on there too.”

“Wow,” I say, realizing the absolute gold I’m holding in my hand. “Thank you, Mr. Carrington?—”

“Call me Christian,” he interjects.

Allegra hides her laughter behind a sip of champagne.

“Christian,” I amend. “I truly appreciate this.” I lift his business card slightly.

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