"What are you doing running around in the dark?" Miguel says, helping his brother up.
In the dim light, Gabriel's face is all red from embarrassment. He dusts off his shoulder, and looks around—he presumes Claire's bodyguards are around them, and maybe they're shocked, too, upon seeing him here.
"Can't a free man jog whenever and wherever he wants to?" Gabriel says.
Miguel laughs. "When have you started jogging while wearing your suit? Is this a new fashion?"
"Well," Gabriel mutters, unsure of what to say. "I was really going home to change clothes, when I felt like running. So…"
Miguel gives him a strange look. "Gabriel, this is quite the opposite direction to where your home is. And besides, you seem to be wearing your Prada loafers. Those are hardly any good for jogging."
Jesus, Miguel, quit the questions, Gabriel screams in his mind. The more he talks, the deeper the hole he seems to be digging. He tries to smile. "I don't know what came to me. I just—"
