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Her eyes locked onto mine and she slowly shook her head. “I just got canned, Chase. I was just let go fromDeadline America.”
“I don’t understand,” I answered as I took her hand. “How and why in the hell did that happen?”
Were they completely insane? There really was noDeadline Americawithout Savannah Anderson. She was the face of the show.
She pointed her finger at her face. “They think my scars will be distracting, and they’re not sure they can always stay covered with the makeup. They’re probably right. I don’t work in the studio where I’m in a controlled environment. In some climates, it might be difficult to make sure they’re completely unnoticeable. But I didn’t really think it would matter. I guess itdoesmatter to the higher ups. They’re assholes who think appearance is everything. My producer and director went to bat for me, but the corporates were adamant that they needed a new face forDeadline America.”
“Christ!” I cursed. “They’re completely out of touch then. People who watch that show don’t give a damn about your face, Vanna. They watch it for the way you present the issues.”
She sniffled. “Corporate has never really understood what their watchers want. They’re only worried about the image they present.”
“Which is probably why they’re still a fairly small cable channel,” I grumbled. “Your show was the most popular on the network.”
She swiped a tear from her cheek. “I can’t really complain. They’re paying out my contract for the rest of the year. I think they just want to get rid of me because I’m damaged in their eyes.”
“Bastards!” I snarled, unable to control my anger. “You made that fucking program. I hope they enjoy watching their ratings crash and burn.Deadline Americawas popular because you made people want to give a shit about issues that they didn’t even know existed before they watched it. They’ll regret it.”
She shrugged. “Well, right now they think it needs an overhaul, and that means a show without a woman with scars on her face.”
My blood was boiling with every tear that trickled down Vanna’s cheek.
“They’re hardly noticeable,” I said gruffly. “And they sure as hell don’t affect your talent for storytelling.”
She looked at me with sad, liquid eyes as she replied, “I want to believe that, but I see the scars in the mirror every single day when I get out of bed, Chase. They aren’t invisible, and in television, looks matter sometimes. They’re ugly.”
My temper boiled over, and that was something that rarely happened, but I was royally pissed that anyone had made Vanna feel like she was less valuable just because of a few fucking scars.
“They arenotugly, and they don’t have a goddamn clue,” I growled as I stood up, grabbed my tie and ripped it off. I then took off my suit jacket and dropped it into the chair next to Vanna’s. “Those are not scars, sweetheart. They’re tiny little marks that are barely there.”
I started to unbutton my dress shirt.
She swiped the tears off her face again as she asked, “What are you doing?”
“Showing you what scars actually look like,” I answered as I pulled my shirt out of my pants and finished unbuttoning it.
I didn’t care what it took anymore to make her realize that nothing about the scars on her face were unattractive.
Hell, I knew what repulsivereallylooked like.
I saw it every time I took off my shirt, and I’d seen it reflected in a woman’s eyes when she saw them.
But that didn’t matter anymore.
I was trying to prove a goddamn point that might make Vanna feel better about her gorgeous face.
All that really concerned me at this point was…Vanna.
“I was doing one last operation before I was due to be discharged from the Army four years ago,” I said stoically. “My crew and I were going over last-minute details near the hangar out on the airfield when we came under heavy RPG fire. It came out of fucking nowhere and it took us all by surprise. I don’t remember much of anything that happened after that. I nearly bled to death from shrapnel wounds by the time I was carried to safety. One of them nicked a blood vessel in my leg. My co-pilot was also injured. Unfortunately, my crew chief didn’t make it. My face was spared, but that’s about the only part of me that didn’t get littered with shrapnel.”
I pulled open my shirt and shrugged it off, fueled only by the need to make Vanna understand thatherscars weren’t ugly at all.
I heard her swift intake of breath as her eyes settled on my torso, but I still didn’t stop. I was too fucking angry to stop.
“Oh, my God, Chase!” she said in a strangled, distressed voice.
My chest ached at the dismay and shock in her tone, but I wasn’t about to cease just because she was repelled by the way that I looked.
Most women would be.
