Lickin' License Read Online Free PDF Page A

Forty-two lanes, glow-in-the-dark bowling with neon bowling pins, music while they bowled, music in the Pressure Lounge upstairs, lively crowds—Bowlmor had everything they needed to unwind. As Vanessa and Mimi sat in the dimly-lit Pressure Lounge, Vanessa was hoping Bowlmor had the man she needed in her life.
    Mimi had been sipping on a lemon drop martini in between taking bites of one of her turkey club wraps. “You need some meat in your life, Nessa.”
    Vanessa frowned. “There's so much better things to do in life than eat animals.”
    Mimi removed the lemon slice from her glass and offered it to Vanessa with a smile. “Here you go, Earth Lady.”
    Vanessa laughed, staring at her best friend. Mimi was wearing a pair of tight white jeans with a striped blue and white button-up shirt, both by Polo. She was the assistant director of public relations at Ralph Lauren, so her wardrobe consisted of everything from Polo and Chaps to Rugby and Black Label. Mimi was Chinese, but had more soul than the average sister and far more experience than Vanessa with black people in the 'hood. While Vanessa was growing up in the comfort of a Park Avenue condo with a doorman and concierge, Mimi was carving out a space for herself as the only Asian girl in Queen's crime-ridden Baisley Projects. While Vanessa was in private school with personal tutors and dedicated teachers, Mimi was running with crowds of future dropouts inside the halls of August Martin High School. But when the pair met at NYU, they gravitated to each other like family. They were intrigued by each other's backgrounds and struggle to fit in.
    “You holler at that chick from the salon yet?” Mimi asked.
    “I e-mailed her yesterday, but I didn't hear anything yet.”
    “Don't sweat it. You gonna get that job.”
    “Mimi the psychic.”
    “I don't gotta be Cleo to know what you capable of, you feel me?”
    “Tell that to Candy.” Vanessa shook her head, rolling her eyes across the dance floor in search of Mr. Right.
    “I thought you said she seemed impressed with you?”
    “Yeah, but who knows.” Vanessa sipped her club soda. “Tell you one thing, I'm sure she'll cut to the chase with her decision.”
    “What makes you say that?”
    “She sure didn't have a problem telling me she liked being licked.”
    “Who doesn't?” Mimi chuckled.
    “Oh, excuse me. I forgot, I'm talking to 'Ms. I-experimented-once-while-I-was-tipsy.'”
    “Hell of an experience. Toes curled up like a Cheese Doodle.” Mimi rubbed her hands together and grinned. “But Mimi likes pee pee. Strictly dickly, you feel me?”
    “Hard to tell.”
    “I just understand how a chick could get caught up. It's like crack—very addictive.” She laughed.
    “To each his or her own.”
    Vanessa and Mimi strolled around Bowlmor after leaving the Pressure Lounge. They flirted with a few men before heading home. Vanessa drove through Manhattan, craving to have the itch between her legs scratched by a man. The two weeks that had passed since she had sex felt like two years. She wanted the real thing…fast. But she would have to settle for the fake 50 Cent waiting on her computer screen at home.
    * * *
    The following week, Vanessa stood in front of her bathroom mirror applying lip gloss. It was merely an enhancer of her natural beauty. Makeup had never touched her face. Her flawless skin was the product of Shea butter, tea tree oil and organic soap from the Body Shop. Vanessa knew she was naturally beautiful and she felt her body deserved only the best “nature” could produce. She slipped on some loose-fitting slacks and a long silk wrap over her tank top. Turning off the light, she headed out her apartment.
    She got in her black Altima and steered into Harlem. She had not been in the neighborhood since she and Mimi saw Anthony Hamilton perform at the Apollo months earlier. She now parked in front of Candy's Shop and looked around, expecting to see Mimi's car. “Damn,” she whispered. It was 10:00