Chapter 3: Aunt Rachel’s Shameless Plan
Seeing my excuse wasn't working, I decided to go for broke. Stealth had failed; time for a frontal assault.
"Dr. Hart, do you have a girlfriend?" Subtlety was officially in the trash.
My bluntness caught him off guard for a second—a flicker in his eyes, then gone.
Before he could answer, another voice chimed in, "Nope, Dr. Hart's single!" The campus doctor, about thirty, watched from the pharmacy window, looking thoroughly entertained.
Dr. Hart shot him a sidelong glance, the kind that could’ve written "mind your business" on the wall.
Hearing he was single, my eyes lit up. Weakness, thy name is confirmed bachelor.
No more beating around the bush—I went straight for it: "Dr. Hart, do you believe in love at first sight?" I was a one-woman marching band.
"Can I add you on Messenger?" I held his gaze, smiling as if this was a totally normal follow-up.
Ethan was perfectly fine. The “fainting” had been pure sleep drama and teenage hubris.
As soon as Dr. Hart left, Ethan slipped out too. My nephew moves fast when scandal is nearby.
No sooner had we stepped outside than he started complaining—the lecture began before we hit the sidewalk.
"Seriously, Aunt Rachel, I thought you were all about the single life?" His indignation was theatrical.
"The stuff you said to Dr. Hart back there made me want to crawl into a hole." He pantomimed digging one.
"You told him I have anemia? Look at me—who's gonna buy that?" He flexed like he was auditioning for a boy band.
"Dr. Hart has so many students he can't tell us apart, and you use me as an excuse to get his contact? What am I, still in elementary school?" His pride took several mortal wounds.
"How am I supposed to face him after this?" He moaned as if I’d ruined his entire academic reputation.
I swatted his arm and shot him a glare. "You're too chatty." Not hard—just playful, and he still grinned.
I was annoyed. I hadn't managed to get Dr. Hart's contact info. My crushing defeat stung.
But I wasn’t giving up that easily. Hope is stubborn when you’re already in too deep.
I grinned at Ethan: "Ethan, after all those birthday gift cards I've given you over the years, it's your turn to help me out." Reciprocity, aunt-style.
"Send me Dr. Hart's class schedule." I made it sound like a small favor, which it wasn’t.
Ethan was shocked. "Aunt Rachel, you're for real?" His eyes ping-ponged between fear and admiration.
"You're not actually going to sit in on his class, are you?" He sounded horrified, like I’d threatened to show up in a prom dress.
I just smiled, keeping my intentions to myself. Strategic silence is underrated.










