Disclaimer: I do not own Smash! or any of the characters. I am not making any money off of this!
A/N: Oh my gosh! Thanks so much for all the interest! It really makes me so happy and helps me to keep going. :D Thanks so much to everyone who faved or added me to their alert lists, and a big thanks for the reviews from MoonBender, Belligerent-road-pylon , idbeinthefollies, Reeta, EdnRobCougar, chrisfaithalin , ber1719. I know this chapter is shorter, but I'll try to post again midweek.
The slam of the driver's door pulled Karen from her thoughts; she looked over to see Derek opening the door to her left. She made a move to lower her foot from where it was resting on the seat.
"No," he said, "leave it; I told you, it needs to stay elevated." He slid in the seat at her side and carefully lifted her foot to rest in his lap. Karen's eyes widened and she froze, her swollen, discolored ankle was currently resting precariously between Derek's legs, and he didn't even seem to flinch. He leaned up to the cab driver and mumbled something that she missed, before leaning back into the worn leather of the seat. She glanced out the window to her side, quickly recovering her composure.
The cab lurched forward weaved its way into New York's sea of cars. Karen reached down and felt her side pocket for her phone, and groaned as she felt nothing but the cloth of her yoga pants.
Derek looked over at her with an eyebrow raised. Normally she would have been offended at his lack of verbalization, but under her current circumstances, she didn't feel like fighting it.
"My phone," She said with a sigh, "I left it back at the studio. I had put it on the window before that last number." The taxi lurched suddenly as it went over a pot hole. She grit her teeth as she felt her ankle begin to shift, but was surprised to find a hand gently stabilize it. She shifted her eyes to look over at Derek, who still had his hand resting on her foot. His warm palm seemed to dull the throbbing, but it also caused her thoughts to become a muddled mess. 'Stop it, Karen' She chided herself. It wasn't like she had never felt a man touch her before, but here she was sitting in the back of a dingy cab, acting like a giddy high schooler.
Derek shifted slightly pulling a phone out of his side pocket offering it to her. "Don't you have a man you would like to contact? I'm sure he would be just devastated at your distress." He said appearing to sound disconnected. But there was something hidden behind his words, more than his normal distain; it almost sounded like… jealousy. Karen almost laughed at herself; the pain must be getting to her head. Derek Wills? Jealous? Hell would freeze over.
She looked down at his extended hand with the phone, before meeting his eyes. "Dev and I had a fight. He moved out." She said flatly, "Not that it's any of your business of course." she added quickly. She could have sworn she saw a smirk in his eyes.
"Of course not," He said. The taxi stopped at a red light and the two sat in a stiff silence. "How long ago?" he asked. It was a simple question, but it seemed to strike her right in the core. She couldn't bring herself to look at him. Why did he suddenly care so much? She considered asking him as much, but she thought back to earlier today. To his credit, he had shown her some degree of kindness, more than he ever showed to any of the other ensemble members and in many ways more kind than she had ever seen him be to Ivy.
"It's a simple question, Karen." He said, seeming to read her mind. She continued to look out the window. What was he going to do with the information? Use it as bait in rehearsal? Hold it against her for blackmail? She stole a glance at him, only finding him looking right back. She pretended not to notice.
"If you could bring yourself to stop your obsessive over analysis of every word that came out of my mouth, maybe we could have a civil conversation. That's all I was going for Karen, conversation. Only you could manage to make something so simple into something so enigmatic." Derek said.
There he went again, just when she thought that he might be softening up. She should have known better. Derek was busy looking at his emails on his phone, so he didn't notice when Karen began studying him. Maybe…maybe there was some truth behind his words. Maybe Derek wanted nothing more than to fill the time, but in a business where who you know is as important as your talent, Karen was wary of any questioning from her seemingly cold hearted director. She sighed, Derek had gone out of his way today to help her, the least she could do was answer one question.
"Three weeks." She said. "We got into an argument three weeks ago, just before the start of the workshop. I told him that I didn't get Marilyn. I told him that I got offered an ensemble role instead, and that I had accepted it. He got mad; he said that I didn't need an ensemble role, that I needed a lead. I tried to explain to him that in Broadway any experience is worth it. You don't just go from an unknown to a star. But he didn't understand, and he said he had lost respect for me. I still don't really understand why. I think he had started to get involved with a girl at his job and was looking for an easy out. But right before he left he said, 'I want you to know, you're better than any little chorus girl.'" Karen said, trying her best to maintain her composure. Derek finally raised his gaze from the screen of his phone to meet Karen's eyes.
"He's right you know. You are better than that." He said. Karen looked up at him, her face etched with confusion. She couldn't detect any of his normal sarcasm laced through his words, and his face showed no signs of jest.
"Derek, what th-," But before she could question him, the cab stopped, and Derek was out the door.