Seeing Hugh’s expression when I opened the door did not fill me with confidence that I had managed to hide the bruising. “Does it really look that bad?” I asked. Hugh ducked his head and I had to give the man credit. I could see the cogs in his brain working as he tried to decide on a diplomatic answer. I decided to let him off the hook. “Don’t bother answering, I looked in a mirror before opening the door.” The bruise itself was no longer so obvious. It was the heavily caked on makeup that now drew attention to the area. Short of hiding out in my apartment there didn’t seem to be much that I could do about it. I had tried to make it look natural, but there is a point where you need to admit that you are fighting a losing battle and I had reached that point about ten minutes earlier. “Does it hurt?” asked Hugh as we got in his car. “A little,” I said. “I cannot believe that I walked into that. I didn’t even have a chance to duck.” “Do they know what the guy wanted?”
