“Thanks.”
“But your father? This Daniel Carter? He’d only slept with one girl before this. He only slept with one girl—the same girl—after this. You’d think that he’d remember the names of the girls in between.”
“You think he lied to me?”
Matthew shrugged. “I just find it odd, that’s all.”
“You’re young.”
“So was your father at the time you were conceived.”
Wilde nodded. “Good point.”
“You should call and push him a little.”
Wilde didn’t reply.
“Don’t just call it quits, Wilde.”
“I haven’t. Kind of the opposite, in fact.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s why I raised this with you. I wanted your input on something.”
A smile broke out on Matthew’s face. “Sure.”
“I heard from another relative on the site. He calls himself PB.”
Wilde showed Matthew the most recent message from PB. Matthew read it twice and said, “Wait, this message came in when?”
“Four months ago.”
“Is there an exact date?”
“It’s right there. Why?”
Matthew kept staring at the message. “Why didn’t you reply before now?”
“I didn’t see it.”
Matthew stared at the screen some more. “So that’s it.”
“What’s it?”
“Why you are so distracted.”
“I’m not following.”
“You feel guilty.” Matthew kept his eyes on the screen. “This blood relative cried out to you for help. You didn’t even let yourself hear the cry.”
Wilde looked at him. “Harsh.”
“But?”
“But fair. He makes himself sound famous, don’t you think?”
“Could be an exaggeration,” Matthew said.
“Could be,” Wilde agreed.
“I mean, that’s the thing with social media. A kid in my class put out a song and got fifty thousand views on his YouTube channel. Now he thinks he’s Drake or something.”
Wilde didn’t know who Drake was, so he kept silent.
“But something about this…” Matthew said.
“What?”
“Maybe Sutton would know.”
“Sutton, the girl you’ve had a crush on since eighth grade?”
A smile toyed with Matthew’s lips. “Seventh, actually.”
“The one who’s going out with Crash Maynard?”
“Was going out with.” Matthew couldn’t hold the smile back any longer. “You’ve been gone a long time, Wilde.”
“Have I now?”
“Sutton and I have been dating for almost a year now.”
Wilde smiled too. “Nice.”
“Yeah.” Matthew blushed. “Yeah, it’s pretty great.”
“Uh, we don’t need to have that talk, do we?”
Matthew chuckled at that one. “I’m good.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, that ship has sailed, Wilde.”
“Sorry.”
“Mom handled it. It’s all good.”
When the game went to commercial break, Matthew said, “Speaking of which.”
“What?”
“I’m going to grab a shower,” Matthew said, standing. “Hate to eat and run, but I’m spending the night at Sutton’s.”
“Oh,” Wilde said. Then he added, “Your mom’s okay with that?”
Matthew made a face. “Really?”
“You’re right. None of my business.” Wilde rose. “I better get going too.”
Matthew ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and vanished into his bedroom. Wilde was about to go up and say goodbye to Laila when his phone rang. It was Rola.
“What’s up?”
“Pay dirt,” Rola said.
“I’m listening.”
“I got an address for PB&J. But it doesn’t make much sense.”
Chapter
Eight
The mailing address for PB&J was a luxury Manhattan condo on the seventy-eighth floor of a gleaming skyscraper simply called Sky, located on Central Park South near the Plaza Hotel. The high-rise was fourteen hundred feet tall, making it the second tallest residential building in New York City.
“Not just rich,” Rola said. “Stanky rich.”
“Stanky?”
“I learned that word on Urban Slang.”