"Nina Walsh—"
Aiden Sinclair got out of his car and walked over to the BMW. His view was unobstructed. He could see her clearly—it was Nina Walsh.
"Nina Walsh?"
The woman rested her hand on the car door and laughed. "Hey, pretending to have the wrong person... I can't believe people still use such an old pickup line."
Her smile was radiant. She raised a slender hand and wiggled her fingers at the man outside the window—a platinum ring sat on her ring finger.
"Married. Not interested."
As soon as she spoke, the car reversed slightly, pulled out, and drove away.
'She doesn't know me?'
'Or... did I really get the wrong person?'
Aiden Sinclair stared blankly as the car drove off into the distance. The sudden rush of hope vanished, and his heart felt like it was on a roller coaster.
"Look up a license plate for me..."
He couldn't let go of any possibility.
In less than half an hour, the information he requested was sent to his phone.
