"Oh, Vinny. Oh, God. Oh, God--Vinny!" Toes curling, Alyssa gripped the armrest as the man between her legs worked his magic.

"That's my name, baby. Say it loud, say it proud."

Eyes closed, lip between her teeth, Alyssa's body seized as the vibrations rippled across delicate, sensitive nerves. They'd been at it for hours and honestly, she didn't know how much more she could stand. "Oh, God, Vinny. Please, I can't--I need a break."

"Almost done," he murmured, and true to his word, pulled away and sat up. Brow glistening with the sweat of effort, his eyes locked to her naked breasts, and held a moment before pulling up to meet hers. Glowing with pride. "You ready, babe?"

An edgy mess of feeling, releasing her lip, Alyssa smiled. Nodded. "Yes. Yes, give it to me."

Vinny's smile flashed revealing gold capped teeth in a wide grin. "Love it when you talk dirty." And whipped up a large, oval shaped hand-mirror. "I think this is my best work yet."

Accepting the mirror, Alyssa angled the reflection down so she could take in his masterpiece: a couple of stunning nipples in a creamy tone that made her think of nutmeg sprinkled atop a foamy latte. The reconstructive surgery had given them shape, but Vinny...Vinny brought them to life.

"The redness will dissipate," he said, rolling away on his stool to set aside his tattoo gun to be cleaned and sterilized for his next patron. "And the taupy browns will mellow out to match your golden undertones. The effect will be subtle and stunning. I challenge anyone to know that these puppies are tattoos and not the real deal."

"They're gorgeous, Vinny." And she meant it. The shape delicate, small. Perfect. Far superior than what she'd had before. The image in the mirror blurred as Alyssa' eyes ran hot with tears.

Vinny's face, kind and covered in thick, bold streaks of Maori tribal ink, fell. "Oh baby doll, come here," he said, and draped her shirt over her generous bosom before gathering her into a warm hug. "There," he soothed, stroking a hand over her hair as she wept into his shoulder. "No need for tears, baby doll. The magic's done. You're whole again."

Sniffing, Alyssa brushed at her face, mopping up the wet trail of happy tears. "It's such a small thing," she said through sobs, cupping her breasts. Weighing them. "Such a small, stupid little thing. I didn't know it would mean so much."

Vinny skimmed calloused thumbs over her cheeks, pressed a comforting kiss to her brow. "Nothing small about it. You were robbed, baby doll, the day cancer took your breasts. Thanks to me and a killer surgeon, you now have a set that'll rival the best of nature anywhere in the world."

Walking her through the after care, Vinny wrapped her chest in cellophane to protect the area and doling out tubes of anti-bacterial moisturizer, printed pamphlets.

"Take the wrap off after five hours," he said, folding his hands in his lap while Alyssa pulled her sweater overhead. "Wash the area immediately, but gently. Stay out of extreme heat, or extreme cold, wash the area gently and moisturize often. Any questions or concerns, call my shop and we'll take it from there."

"How long until they're fully healed?" Alyssa asked, sliding her arms through the sleeves.

"'Bout a week, two at most. It's a small area and I can see your skin took the ink well. Not too much inflammation or irritation. Your body was made for tattooing, doll. And you sat like a stone. Working on a non-flat surface is a nightmare and stretched out the process. Anytime you wanna sit for a full sleeve or partial back, I'm down."

Smiling, Alyssa rose, adjusting the hem of her shirt around her waist. "Thanks, but with these and that little token you gave me," she said, casually brushing the back of her neck, "I think I'm good for ink. For now at least."

Vinny's eyes glimmered. "Sure thing, doll. Like I said, anytime you change your mind-lemme know and I'll clear the deck for you." Rolling back on his stool, he stood up, looping an arm around her waist as he walked her from the back studio and into the heart of his shop. Here, music blared and artist sat, hunched over and guns firing-engrossed in their artistry. Alyssa swept her eyes around, to the faces of the patron, some lost in a zen-like trance, and other frantically breathing through the needling pain.

The walls were splashed with bold colours, black trim and framed photographs of Vinny's more prized sketches and work. The center of the room was a large circular reception station topped with computer monitors and payment equipment, spinning racks of piercings and bits of jewelry, array of nail polish and even fake tattoos with a gold metallic finish.

"Hey girl, how'd it go?" The receptionist, Cherry, beamed, red-lips spread over dazzling white teeth. She happily snapped her gum, fingers combing through a heavy curtain of impossibly straight black hair. The other side was shaved clean to her scalp, and revealed a stunning effect of shimmering purple scales that made Alyssa think of mermaids and fairytales.

"Incredible. She's a champ. Knew she would be," Vinny spoke up, bringing his arm around Alyssa' shoulders, he hugged her tight against him. "'Kay, baby doll. I'm gonna leave you in Cherry's capable hands. Come back and see us soon, y'hear?"

"I will."

Squeezing her again, he looping his fingers in black suspenders pulled tight over his blue checkered shirt, bowler hat tipped back off his face as he went to meet his next client waiting patiently in the lounge.

"Fucking-A!" Cherry thrust up a hand and high-fived Alyssa. "Atta girl. So we gonna see you again?" She winked at Vinny and Alyssa laughed.

"Jesus, if you guys had it your way, I'd walk out of here a mural."

"Fucking-A," Cherry said again. "Nothing wrong with that, if you ask me. You've got an edgy look. 'Specially with that streak of violet you're sporting now. Love it, by the way. Totally stellar choice."

Alyssa brushed at the striped of colour she'd impulsively dyed into her dark hair last week. A choice she'd made at the 11th hour during what wasn't supposed to be more than a simple trim and blow dry. But Deena, her stylist, had been thrilled at the prospect of doing something a little wild and spontaneous. Something Alyssa was determined to have more of in her life.

Wild spontaneity.

After all, if there was anything cancer had taught her, it was that life was too fucking short so while she was here, Alyssa intended to live and breathe and experience as much as she could as often as she could.

"What're your plans for the weekend?" Cherry asked, snapping her back to present as she rang up her tab on the monitor.

Blinking, Alyssa pulled herself back into focus. "Oh, I'm taking a trip...kind of an extended vacation. Three months."

"Nice," Cherry whistled. "Anywhere fancy?"

"No. Nothing like that. I'm flying out to Vancouver. There's a small island out there--Haven. I'm going there to spend some time with my sister. My twin."

Eyes popping, Cherry handed over the credit card machine. "That sounds awesome. Didn't know you had a twin."

That's because Alyssa didn't really like to talk about her. At least, not for the last five years. Taking the handheld device from Cherry, Alyssa's gaze fell to a glint of something embedded just above the back of her wrist and on the flat of her fingers between the top and middle knuckles.

"What's that?"

"This? Oh, these are dermals," Cherry said, angling her hand and wiggling fingers Alyssa could get a better look. "It's a stud that sits in the skin, see? A little slice, you pop it in and voila. Permanent jewelry. Got my license last week so I could branch out in here and did these babies myself. Like it?"

"I do." And she did. Really did. Eye level with the wrack of piercings, Alyssa caught her reflection in the sliver of mirror, catching her from eyes to throat. "How much?"

"For what?"

"To do a dermal. How much?"

"small studs like these run you about fifty bucks per."

Nodding, Alyssa plucked one off the rack. A simple, clear stone wrapped in gold. "Good. That's reasonable."

Cherry's eyes widened, before shimmering with interest. "Honey, you looking to be my first client?"

"Damn right."

"Well, alright," she giggled, cocking back the flip top. "Come with me and let's pop that cherry!"

#

As someone who jetted off at least once a month for business, Alyssa considered herself a consummate and savvy traveler. She knew how to navigate quickly through airports, how to juggle layovers, which hotels to stay in and which to avoid. But figuring out how to pack for a three month stay was proving to be a bit of a challenge.

She studied the neatly folded stacks of clothing spread across her bed with a shrewd, discerning eye. The key was simplicity and pairing things that would rotate well. She could take three pairs of jeans-all different tones and cuts of course-the shirts were all neutrals in white, black, grey and navy to pair with bold accessories in coral, cobalt, gold and turquoise. A couple dresses-one sleek and black, the other a stain teal. Two jackets; the black leather bomber would go in the case, the knee length tan trench she'd wear on the way over.

Shoes, shoes were going to be tricky. She needed her heels, black-of course, nude-essential, a strappy brown pair and a fun little pastel with metallic edging. Then there were her flats, her sneakers-a pair for running and another for hitting the gym, sandals for walking on the beach, flip flops for indoors, and slippers for when the weather dipped and got really, really cold. The black knee high boots she set aside for tomorrow's flight, as well.

One of the few pearls of wisdom her mother had imparted-wear the heaviest and bulkiest items on the way over, freeing up your suitcase for more.

A couple of sweaters, long sleeve shirts, a pair of denim shorts...Alyssa angled her head in thought, pulling out a couple shirts, the sun dresses and skirts, tossing them to the side. There, that was better. She'd added a bathing suit, because this was Vancouver after all, and there was sure to be a swimming pool or two she'd might want to check out. A large makeup bag, an even larger one for her jewelry, blow dryer and flat iron, her laptop and kindle-fully stocked with some of the latest and greatest in romance and murder/mystery new releases.

Alyssa was just about set, loading her carefully folded and sorted items into three large suitcases without breaking much of a sweat.

Cleo, on the other hand, traveled light. Always close at hand, Cleo wound around her legs with a mewl, arching her back as she rubbed across her shins and ankles.

"Hey, you." Scooping Cleo up into her arms, she nuzzled a soft nose against Alyssa's cheek, followed with a dab of her paw. A thrumming purr echoed, pulsing through that sleek, lean little body into Alyssa's tight chest.

Everyone recommended dogs but cats were less maintenance and just as lovable, as far as Alyssa was concerned. Cleo was a cuddler and had the deepest, most soulful green eyes. Sometimes they would stretch out onto the bed and Alyssa would stare into them, drifting into those faceted depths, her thoughts spinning out into empty, white noise. Soothing as flannel and more effective than any therapy she'd tried in that first, horrible year.

Sighing, Alyssa stroked a hand over that exotic, leopard spotted pelt, the fur smooth and glossy beneath her palm.

"Are you ready for this?" she asked, soaking up that warmth and comfort. Cleo's purring continued to thrum, making her smile. "Of course you are. You're ready for anything."

Closing the top on her first suitcase, Alyssa pressed her fingers to her eyes. A pressure headache flashed across her temporal lobe in bright, halting waves. God, she hadn't had one of these since the chemo. Or Sebastian. Stress, she mused, and the fact that she was probably a tad dehydrated after kicking back two coffees and almost no water the whole day.

Carting Cleo to the fridge, Alyssa pulled out her large filtered jug and poured out a tall glass. Sipping slowly, carefully, she willed her nerves to calm, to ease. Why was she so damn jittery? This was Annelise, her sister-though the police, once they'd finally reached out to her two months ago, had revealed that she'd changed her name to Eva. Eva Turner.

It sat weird in her mouth, tasted strange and foreign but Alyssa supposed there was no going back to who they were before the whole mess imploded. Too much had happened. Too much had changed.

Draining her glass, Alyssa hugged Cleo tighter, meandering through her quiet, dim condo. The wall of windows overlooked the stretch of Harbourfront and Lake Ontario. Sighing, Alyssa leaned against the cool, crisp glass, stroking thoughtfully behind Cleo's ears. Her rumbling purr vibrated straight through Alyssa's body with a calming, almost drugging effect.

She'd bought this place three years ago after...well, after.

And though this was entirely her space, Alyssa could never say it had ever felt quite like home. Mainly because...well, she'd never planned to live in a glorified apartment, as she'd always called it. But with the chemo and radiation treatment, the idea of maintaining a four bedroom home she'd owned with Sebastian had seemed too daunting. And, in truth, a bit depressing. Nothing but those empty rooms and no one to fill them but her loneliness and memories.

All those shattered hopes and dreams of marriage and family to linger in the dusty corners like ghosts.

So she'd sold up, and quickly too, thanks to a booming housing market. And this place had been reasonably situated close to the hospital as well as her job. Coupled with the rise in housing demands, Alyssa knew that any property purchased downtown core was a safe investment so that if and when she decided to sell, she should walk away with a nice little boost to her accounts.

And lord knew she needed to be smart about money right now. Being jobless and all. Bitterness twisted in her belly, letting her know that despite all her attempts to prove otherwise, she wasn't completely over it.

Who would be?

Seven years with that company, gradually working her way up the totem pole, only to be fired? No, not fired. Encouraged to leave. Quietly.

The shrill of her cell phone pulled Alyssa back to her bedroom where she found it rumbling on her nightstand. She didn't need to look at the call display to know who it was. Only one person called her this late. Indira Varma, her best friend—hell, pretty much the only one who'd stuck around amidst the cancer and all the other craziness over the last fifteen years making her the closets Alyssa's had left to family, and incidentally—in light of recent events—her lawyer.

Setting down Cleo, Alyssa reached for her phone, swiped across the smooth surface to answer.

"It's about time," a female voice said, all impatience and frustration. "I've been trying to reach you all fucking day. What do you mean you're leaving Toronto?"

Turning to the window, Alyssa pulled back the length of curtain and peered out to the winding stretch of highway, watching the way the lights of cars, coming and going, dotted all the way down to the horizon like fireflies.

"My sister and I are going to be reunited and I want to spend time with her. It's only three months."

Indira laughed, a hard, harsh note that was anything but jovial. "Are you insane? Leaving now, like this, looks like your running. It gives their accusations merit."

As a marketing brand and image consultant in a major firm, she was comfortable in high stress situations but in light of all the things happening from her failing health, burying her mother, and the added insult of a runaway fiancé, Alyssa was spread too thin and eventually the seams began to show.

Bottom line was, according to the board of directors, she couldn't handle the workload anymore. She couldn't maintain the ruthless standards she'd boxed herself into. That's what led to the inquiry into her accounts, which lead to the discovery of discrepancies and ultimately had her called before the directors to explain herself.

We're heading in a new direction. You need a change of scenery. It's for the good of the company. The haunting words echoed inside of her, churned her stomach like a storm-ridden sea. But Alyssa refused to be swayed. She'd walked out those doors with her dignity intact and wasn't about to start crying now.

"I haven't seen my sister in six years. I'm going, Indy. That's non-negotiable."

"I'm not trying to be the bad guy, alright?" Indy sighed. "I get it, I honestly do, but as an attorney I have to advise that this is a really bad idea. You were wrongfully pushed out Alyssa. Let me go to war for you."

"I signed the paperwork. I accepted the severance package. It's over."

"For an amateur, perhaps, but not me," Indy pressed, insulted. "Give me a week and I can—"

"Indy." Alyssa set her brow against the cool pane of glass, tempering the throb flashing along the front of her skull. "Not tonight, okay? Can you take off the lawyer hat and just be my best friend? Please?"

Indira sighed hugely, but when she spoke this time, her tone was softer and no longer all business. "Have you packed yet?"

Alyssa smirked. "Do you know me at all?"

"Let me guess, three large suitcases?" Indira's laugh slid out, soft as spring rain. "Another two for carry-on?"

Alyssa's gaze shifted to her luggage, where three large suitcases sat and two large carry-on's sat proudly in eager wait. "Smart ass."

Indira's laugh chimed a second time. "So three months, eh? That's a long time to get away, have a bit of fun. And hopefully get into some trouble."

"That's the plan."

"Turn the plan into action, alright? And do me a favour? Don't worry about this...issue. I'll get you out of it, Alyssa, I promise."

"There's nothing to get me out of," Alyssa grumbled. "I didn't do anything. Whatever accounting says, it's a cleric error or some shit."

The line hummed with silence before Indira answered. "We'll talk in a couple of days. The auditors should be onsite Monday to begin the investigation. I'll know more by Wednesday."

"Good. Okay. We'll talk soon." Alyssa hung up after a couple noisy kisses and further promises that she wasn't going to let this little matter rob her of sleep. And it wouldn't because she had absolutely no reason to lose sleep of something she didn't do.

And once the investigation was finalized, they'd promised to package her out with a nice, cushy severance as all the accounts she had worked hard to secure were passed off to her colleague Justin Chan. Who not only got all of her clients, but the VP-ship that rightfully should have been hers.

And that had been the real kick in the teeth.

To hell with the fucking boys club, she thought vehemently.

All those years of working longer hours than her male, or female, colleagues, coming in on weekends, pushing through vacations and birthdays—for nothing. None of it had meant a damn iota of difference to her professional credibility. Because when it all boiled down she was missing the single most important element: a penis.

She could have pushed back, legally, if she wanted to. Set her foot down hard to stay during the investigation, and though furious, the chemo and skin-sparing double mastectomies sucked just about all the fight she'd had left in her.

No, in the end, she'd buckled like a spineless coward, signed the dotted line, shook the line of directors' hands. Actually thanked them, and walked out the doors of Schulman & Co tail between her legs.

That was almost three weeks ago. Since then Alyssa had decided enough wallowing in self-pity. The Big Girl Panties had to come on and she was determined to snap out of the funk. The severance payout promised to be generous and coupled with her savings, Alyssa knew she could manage quite nicely for at least a year before she had to worry.

So she was going to take these three months on Haven as a hard-earned gift to herself. The gift of time. The gift of self-discovery. A chance to be herself. To find herself. And, more importantly, to reconnect with the one person she'd missed the most.