The humid air rising off the surface of the Gulf enveloped her in a warm embrace as she and Pierce strolled along the Marina Walk. Rows of moored boats bobbed in the tide, lining the edges of the inlet; the sun glowed orange and pink, just ready to fall beyond the horizon. She rubbed her arms, the silky material of her blouse soft against her fingers. "So did you enjoy dinner?" she asked, glancing over at him as they continued to walk. He had been quiet since they had left the Indian restaurant, an overcast look on his face. He turned to her, appearing startled, as if she had rustled him out of deep thought. "Oh, uh, yes. Yes, it was wonderful. Especially the chicken tikka masala. Never had anything quite like it." Sara smiled at him. It was so obvious he had something on his mind. This was nothing new for her; Pierce was often distracted on their dates, usually thinking about what had happened at work that day or what he had to accomplish over the rest of the week, month, or year. Pierce was always thinking about work, Sara realized with a bit of a sinking feeling in her stomach, and not for the first time.
