Leon fell silent for a few seconds, lost in thought amidst the rising smoke.
Right now, he still had the song We Don't Talk Anymore in the production stage.
Robbie had already finished recording, and Max Martin's arrangement and post-production work were also complete.
Once the MV started shooting, promotional activities could proceed simultaneously.
The style of this song was also reasonably compatible with Taylor Swift.
If he really hardened his heart, risking a breakup or even a nasty feud with Robbie, there was nothing he couldn't do.
It wouldn't be the first time he'd backstabbed someone.
But it took Leon just over ten seconds to reject this idea.
Pausing the recording of this song a month ago was to prevent getting deeper into the master recording rights dispute with Roc Nation.
He wasn't even willing to sing his own songs under these conditions, so singing songs prepared by Roc Nation for him was even more out of the question.
Everyone in the industry knew about the "slave contract" Taylor signed with Big Machine Records.
The copyrights for all six of her released albums were actually in the hands of Big Machine!
This meant every time she sang her own songs, she had to pay her boss, Scott. Even every time she proposed terminating the contract, she would be held hostage by the copyrights of her first six albums.
Massive wealth that should have belonged to Taylor flowed into Scott's pockets, while she herself was like a slave bound in a basement.
That girl might do something stupid like that, but Leon wouldn't.
He curled his lips and said, "I only sing my own original works."
"Really? Then you better hurry up and write... Missing this wave of traffic is a loss for all of us. Everyone knows you're greedy by nature; this is a huge sum of money you absolutely can't miss..." Lenny gritted his teeth as he said this.
Leon's attitude toward renewing the contract was vague.
And today's bitter fruit was entirely caused by JAY-Z single-handedly.
He listened to Beyoncé's advice and didn't forcibly seize the copyright ownership of Leon's works in the contract.
Back then, he never imagined that a poor kid playing guitar in a subway station could achieve what he had today.
Thinking about it now, he probably grinded his back molars to dust.
Click—
The door to Lenny's office was pushed open, followed immediately by a rich, sexy voice.
"Hey, who is this guy?"
"Listen, you can't make such flirtatious moves, it's work time!"
A white tight-fitting dress, dark golden waves, and an 18-carat Lorraine Schwartz wedding ring on her finger announced her overflowing wealth to every observer.
Even more eye-catching than the jewelry were her long, slender legs—strong, powerful, and clearly defined.
Her taillights, swaying left and right with her steps, were as domineering as an American pickup truck.
It was Beyoncé.
Lenny and Leon immediately stopped arguing.
Outside the door, Jorge's big hand was still kneading the poor Black secretary's taillights.
Beyoncé frowned deeply. "Stop it right now!"
Saying that, she closed the door and strode into the office.
The 12-centimeter high heels had absolutely no effect on her stride.
She casually tossed her handbag onto the sofa and opened her arms to welcome him. "Sorry Leon~ recording the new album took some time."
Although Beyoncé and JAY-Z were husband and wife, she wasn't signed to Roc Nation.
Her contract was with Sony Columbia Records.
The reason lay in reasonable resource allocation.
Although the Roc Nation Kingdom had a certain scale, it wasn't comparable to a giant like Sony Columbia.
If they signed Beyoncé, Roc Nation wouldn't have extra resources to promote other singers.
Beyoncé's new album 4 was being recorded. The distinctive numerical title was also speculated by many media outlets to be benchmarking Adele's 21.
This plain-looking chubby girl from the UK not only dominated the Billboard charts but also started a massacre in the North American record market.
Sales of the 21 album exceeded 2 million copies less than two months after release. This year's total sales were very likely to exceed 5 million.
Surpassing last year's annual champion, Eminem's Recovery, was almost a certainty.
After Beyoncé arrived, Lenny spoke noticeably less.
His master JAY-Z always let this Queen have her way, let alone him, a mere employee.
Beyoncé chatted from the street beef Leon caused to her own private life, finally locking the topic on her new album.
However, not a word was mentioned about commissioning a song.
Perhaps due to pride, Leon keenly sensed that the diva wanted to speak up several times but swallowed the words back.
"You want to buy a house?" Beyoncé's eyes lit up when the topic of buying a house came up.
"It's just a plan. Buying a house in New York is no small sum, you know."
Lenny, standing aside, had a complicated look in his eyes. This kid had only debuted for half a year and already had the financial power to buy a big house in New York?
He had struggled in the music industry for nearly 20 years, serving countless big shots and celebrities, only to manage a 1,600-square-foot apartment in Brooklyn Heights.
"Maybe I can give you some advice. No one understands real estate better than me!" Beyoncé leaned forward excitedly, completely ignoring the deep Mariana Trench almost shoving into Leon's face.
But Beyoncé's obsession with real estate was public knowledge in the circle.
Every year on her birthday, Christmas, and other important dates, simp JAY-Z would prepare luxury cars and mansions in advance as gifts to make this Queen happy.
She owned valuable mansions in luxury areas like Bel Air and Malibu in Los Angeles.
She also owned luxury apartments in famous wealthy areas of New York like the Upper East Side and Tribeca.
On her 29th birthday last year, JAY-Z splashed $22 million to buy her a private island covering 12.5 acres in Florida.
Maybe this was compensation out of guilt for JAY-Z cheating with Rihanna.
Beyoncé continued to ask, "I mean, do you want to come to my place to have a look? I've stepped into too many pitfalls regarding buying a house~"
Just as Leon wanted to say something, she had already stood up and grabbed his hand.
Parked downstairs at the Roc Nation building was Beyoncé's eye-catching vintage sports car.
This 1959 Rolls-Royce Silver Cloud II was her favorite ride.
Vroom—
Beyoncé's driving style was as wild as her body.
"That diss track with you and 50 Cent was simply amazing." The two chatted non-stop on the way to Tribeca.
"I was just fighting back passively," Leon spread his hands and said.
Since Beyoncé brought up this topic herself, he had no qualms.
The whole entertainment industry knew that Beyoncé and her husband had a very good relationship with P. Diddy.
JAY-Z hung out with Diddy back in the 90s. Their relationship was so good they often shared a hotel room, discussing music all night long.
Beyoncé not only publicly celebrated Diddy's birthday but also frequently attended Diddy's crazy parties with JAY-Z.
Diddy also once publicly stated: He was jealous of JAY-Z for marrying the world's most perfect woman.
Leon even once suspected that a tricycle relationship had developed between the three.
Since there was no distinction between men and women in Diddy's eyes, the scene must have been quite chaotic.
"Haha~ I can tell you Diddy's current state." Beyoncé let out a hearty laugh. "He's going crazy with anger. He's lost interest in even throwing parties. He said he wants to take you and 50 Cent out."
"But I've already warned him absolutely not to lay a hand on you. Just take it as a joke; Diddy always likes to joke around."
Joke?
Leon's expression was complicated.
Diddy had done way too many dirty things. Shooting someone in the back was basic operation for him.
"I don't think this joke is funny," Leon said bluntly.
---
Brooklyn Heights wasn't far from Tribeca; just across the Brooklyn Bridge, adjacent to Wall Street.
The location here was superior. The office building of the incredibly wealthy Goldman Sachs Group was located at the southwest end of Tribeca.
To the south was the Financial District, within walking distance to Wall Street, so it became the darling of financial tycoons aside from the Upper East Side.
Beyoncé's mansion was a top-floor penthouse.
6 bedrooms, 4 bathrooms, an indoor area of over 6,000 square feet, a typical American flat with transparency on all four sides.
As soon as he entered, Leon was dazzled by the scene before him.
The decoration style here wasn't flashy or complex. Although Americans were practically the British's conjoined twins, they didn't like the retro and exquisite British style.
The overall decoration style leaned toward Nordic, focusing on transparency and simplicity.
What really caught Leon's eye were the artworks here. The walls were covered with famous paintings JAY-Z had auctioned from all over the world.
Some of the works were priced no less than the apartment itself.
Beyoncé took off her high heels, walking ahead barefoot on the carpet. "You can walk around freely, no need to feel restrained."
In the most conspicuous position in the living room, the 16 golden Grammy trumpets Beyoncé had won were neatly stacked.
Compared to that, Leon's single trumpet was obviously dwarfed.
"Some time ago, I specially ordered a larger trophy display cabinet. I'm afraid I won't be able to fit them all in later~" Beyoncé looked proud.
But Leon's gaze didn't fall on these trophies. On the wall leading to the second floor was a huge portrait photo.
Beyoncé was nearly naked, covering dangerous areas like her chest and the triangle zone with her hands.
Her expression was dreamy, and the high-contrast light and shadow effects clearly displayed every inch of muscle contour on her body.
Leon quipped, "I think this is the best work here."
Hearing this, Beyoncé revealed a rare shy expression and poured Leon a cup of coffee.
The two sat facing each other.
"How about Tribeca? I own many properties in New York, but I still like living here. It's convenient to buy anything." Beyoncé took a sip of coffee and continued, "You said you like Chinese food. Not far east from here is Chinatown, which has the best Chinese food in New York."
Every sentence Beyoncé said was inducing Leon to buy property in Tribeca.
There was nothing to say about the convenience of life or location here, but there was one point worth discussing—
It was too expensive.
When he heard that this property of Beyoncé's was worth over 25 million dollars, Leon shivered and almost dropped his cup.
He currently had 12 million dollars in his account. Even buying a house half the size of this one would empty his pockets.
Seeing this, Beyoncé batted her eyelashes and continued, "If you live here, we can see each other every day~ We can have a drink anytime at night."
This sounded full of temptation.
But Leon dared not cross the line easily.
If he really did it, the lower head would be satisfied, but it would be hard to say if the upper head could be kept.
He was immersing himself in this fantasy when the phone on the table suddenly vibrated.
It was a message from Taylor Swift: [You guy actually rejected me?]
[Not rejecting, I just don't have inspiration for the time being.] Leon replied.
[Don't make excuses! Scott told me everything. You've been acting very hesitant~ Of course, I don't care about this at all. There are too many male singers who want to collaborate with me.]
Taylor's words revealed she was throwing a tantrum.
Leon could only try to appease her: [Now isn't the right time. When have you ever seen me sing songs written by others? Using ghostwriters is disgusting to me.]
On the surface, he said this, but his inner monologue was: It's because you stupid girl never use your brain that you're always led by the nose like a money-printing machine!
Taylor replied quickly: [The right time? What does that mean? Frankly speaking, I don't care at all.]
This stupid woman!
Leon's finger paused on the screen, not knowing what to type, but then he felt there was no need to explain.
Suddenly, he felt a strange sensation coming from below his body.
Through the glass mirror surface of the coffee table, he saw Beyoncé's foot testing him.
Her toes wiggled up and down, extremely teasing.
This situation wasn't unfamiliar to him; Robbie always liked to do this after getting drunk.
Unlike Robbie, Beyoncé's foot was noticeably a size larger, but Black skin was smoother, as smooth as a mirror.
Beyoncé wasn't a Black person in the pure sense; her genes were too mixed, combining Latin and European styles.
"Who were you texting just now, Robbie?" Beyoncé cupped her chin, her eyes dripping with desire.
"No..."
"Then you were chatting with another girl?" Beyoncé said. "I can understand. You achieved such results in such a short time after debut; many women are staring at you."
"But... when talking to me, you can't be distracted!"
At this moment, the aura Beyoncé exuded was completely different from when she was on stage.
On stage, her aura was equally powerful, but it was more of a powerful affinity.
Now, she acted like the "Mean Girl" in some dangerous game.
The more silent Leon was, the bolder Beyoncé's actions became.
"I think we should do something."
"Like?" Leon pretended to be ignorant and swallowed a mouthful of coffee.
"Something special, just like what my husband and that bxxch Rihanna did here."
Saying that, Beyoncé lifted the hem of her dress.
Her full, slender thighs were completely revealed.
Long-term dance training made her body exude a beauty of power distinct from other girls.
Leon only felt his throat burning faintly, and his reason began to shake.
Having friction with the Big Sister-in-Law in this situation wasn't a good idea.
Although the two had a tacit understanding, there were no walls that didn't leak wind in the broken house of the entertainment industry.
Otherwise, Beyoncé wouldn't have known about JAY-Z cheating with Rihanna.
At this moment of deep affection, the phone rang.
It was Phil.
Leon played with Beyoncé's calf while sliding the screen to answer.
"Why aren't you in the office?" Phil asked urgently.
"Do I need to report to you where I go?" Leon responded.
"Haha, look at how terrible your attitude is toward me. You'll regret it~" Phil's laughter became increasingly piercing. "Aren't you worried about losing the best agent in the world?"
"Are you going to tell me what it is or not? I'm busy and in a hurry." Leon frowned.
"I brought you a super big surprise!"
"What surprise!"
"Adidas endorsement contract. I trust you're not unfamiliar with this brand~" Phil's pitch rose, his tail almost wagging up to the sky.
Even the poor in the third world of Asia, Africa, and Latin America wouldn't be unfamiliar with this brand name.
It had been locked in a struggle with Nike, the world's most famous sports brand, for half a century.
A well-deserved world-class brand.
"You did good." Leon praised.
If not for Phil's extraordinary working ability, he would have told this old geezer to fxxk off three times over.
"I'm in the office, come quickly, kid~" Phil said. "Do you know how much this contract is worth if we close it?"
"Talk about that later, I'm coming over now." Leon hung up the phone.
Phil's call gave him the perfect excuse to slip away, avoiding doing something irrational.
"Something urgent came up. I think I have to go, Miss Beyoncé." Leon pushed aside Beyoncé's calf and said, "Thank you for the coffee. Hope I have the chance to 'taste' it again next time."
He deliberately emphasized the pronunciation of "taste."
Beyoncé didn't make a move to keep him. Crossing her legs, she watched him leave, her beautiful eyes rippling.
"You can come over and taste anytime."