# Greystone (wc 4616)

Author: comidacomida
Tags: Female, Human, Introduction, Male, Mystery, Romance, SFHH18, Wolf, intrigue

When I heard there was a Halloween writing contest I figured it would be a lot of fun to come up with a story to present. Sadly, I have never felt that the introduction of a fledgling romance could ever be accomplished in as little as 5000 words, which is the max for the contest. To this end, I'm posting this, which meets the contest guidelines, as the introduction to a 2-3 part short story... a 'teaser' of a little spark that will ultimately ignite into something much greater.  
  
Even in the 5000 limit I was forced to prune back a few important character traits so I'll probably reupload this story after the contest is over and see if I can aim for keeping it under 20,000 or, ideally, 15,000.  
  
So, read on, and I hope you enjoy 'Greystone' (part 1?)!

Greystone  (word count 4616)  
copyright 2018 comidacomida

Megan's life had not been an easy one; being a single teenage mother had a unique set of   
challenges but, just as she was finding stability in her life the entire situation became even   
more complicated: her son, Cody was diagnosed with a rare form of pediatric cancer.  Although   
she had no choice but to move closer to one of the most prominent childhood cancer treatment   
hospitals in the nation the only place she could afford the rent was in a quirky suburban   
subdivision named after the pale rock wall encircling it: Greystone.

The entire development had an almost otherworldly feel to it; despite the extremely low property   
costs the neighborhood didn't attract the 'usual' sort of a slum-style inner-city neighborhood.    
Yes, the people had been aloof from the start and everyone seemingly kept themselves, but every   
single house was kept in immaculate condition, everything liked as though it was professionally   
landscaped, and crime seemed non-existent-- except when Megan got her purse snatched the second   
week she was there.

It was early afternoon and she was on her way to the only food store within walking distance   
and, since she had to sell her car to help cover moving expenses, Megan needed something close   
to home.  In truth, she'd only had about eight dollars in her wallet; she was more upset that   
she'd need to pay for a new ID, get all of her cards canceled then reissued and, most of all,   
that she didn't feel quite as safe.  Of course, still in  shock from the ordeal she hadn't even   
realized that she'd continued walking to the corner store and she didn't have any money with   
which to pay.  Megan was in the aisles of the quick mart before the reality of the situation had   
sunk in and at that point she cried.  Hard.

In Megan's scant two weeks in Greystone she'd seen a wide variety of residents; there wasn't any   
specific ethnic majority and folks of all social classes seemed to call the neighborhood home so   
she didn't quite realize why she was surprised when a calm, mellow voice called out to her with   
a very strong Italian accent.  "Are you in distress, Signora?"

She looked up, blinking away the tears as she tried address the dark blob in front of her.  It   
came into focus slowly as a well-dressed man who she assumed to be in his late 40s or early 50s.   
 He was immaculately groomed; his slightly-wavy hair was black and gray with more gray on the   
sides while the top was very nearly onyx in color.  Although Megan had never been one to talk   
openly with complete strangers his sky-blue eyes held a strange compassion that seemed so   
surreal as to be almost impossible to believe.  At length she managed to explain her breakdown.   
"I was... mugged."

The man straightened up in surprise, eyes widening in alarm. "Truly?  That is not a common event   
in this neighborhood.  Are you hurt?"

He held out a gloved hand to her, which she tentatively accepted and he helped her to her feet.   
She stared at the hand holding hers; the man's black leather gloves matched his professional-  
looking tailored suit.  Despite the wide range of financial backgrounds in Greystone Megan found   
it difficult to think that he actually lived anywhere nearby.  Only when she saw that he was   
watching her expectantly did she realize that she'd failed to answer his question. "No... I'm   
not hurt.  Just... shaken."

He offered a smile; strangers had no right to offer such a genuine expression and yet the well-  
dressed man looked genuinely relieved.  "Well then, Signora, I am pleased to hear that you are   
unharmed.  Il Signore will be pleased as well, I am sure."

She was confused by the Italian word the man made sound like a name, or perhaps a title. "Il   
Signore?"

The well-dressed man raised an eyebrow at her inquiry but, rather than address her confusion he   
had a question of his own. "Why have you come to the marketplace, Signora?"

Megan looked around as she checked her pockets "I was getting some things for my son, and--"    
she paused when the realization hit her. "--and I lost my purse."

Her companion smiled warmly in that oddly genuine nature of his and motioned to the aisles.   
"Then, please... get whatever it is you need.  You may consider your bill covered."

She stood still for several seconds before the man nodded and motioned again.  Megan moved   
hesitantly at first but, after grabbing the first item the rest came easier.  In the end she   
had an armful of goods consisting of everything on her list.  The stranger helped her to the   
register by taking several of the items himself.  The attendant behind the counter looked   
between Megan and the well-dressed man, and addressed him instead of her. "Can I get you   
anything else, Marcus?"

Marcus nodded.  "Yes, Jon.  This young lady had her purse stolen by a man on her way here.  Four   
twenty dollar bills and two ten dollar bills, if you please."

The clerk nodded, handing a receipt to Marcus and the six bills to Megan.  She was so stunned   
that he had to put the money on the counter in front of her.  "Here you go, miss.  Thanks for   
coming in."

Her well-dressed companion picked the money up from the counter and put it into her hand even as   
he addressed the attendant. "Thank you, Jon."

Jon nodded vigorously.  "Happy to help!"

Megan was still in a haze even as Marcus led her outside by the shoulder.  Once they had stepped   
out of the corner market he turned her to face him before removing his hand from her shoulder.    
"I am Marcus, but I do not believe I received your name, Signora."

Reflexively, Megan held our her hand.  "Megan.  Hollens."

His smile reappeared and he gave her hand a firm shake.  "Well then, Megan Hollens, I am pleased   
that I was able to be of assistance, and I apologize for the difficulty you faced this   
afternoon.  Il Signore does not condone crime and does not sit idly by and permit Greystone's   
residents to become victims."

She had no idea how she could respond to such a statement. "...okay."

Rather than let go of her hand, Marcus brought it up to his lips and kissed the back.  "Go home   
to your son and do not weigh your heart down with what has happened.  Perhaps, if the fates   
allow, we may see one another again soon."

The fates, apparently, did.

\* \* \* \* \*

Two days later, just after 9am Megan responded to a knock at her door; opening it, she saw   
Marcus on her porch.  He was dressed just as impeccably as he had been at the corner store and,   
to her surprise, he held out her lost purse, announcing formally. "Il Signore sends his regards,   
Ms. Hollens."

Glancing back inside to where Cody was sitting on the sofa watching cartoons, Megan stepped   
outside and closed the door behind her. "I... don't know what to say."

Rather than address her confusion at the events, Marcus instead took the conversation a   
completely different direction.  "Your son... he is... unwell?"

Megan had gone to great lengths to protect her son from the outside world's judgment and the   
coldness with which people treated cancer patients; Marcus, however, was too astute for her and   
she realized she hadn't been successful at hiding Cody.  She stepped fully in front of the door,   
crossing her arms as she challenged her unexpected guest. "Cancer.  He's receiving treatments   
for it."

She had heard all kinds of responses to the statement; usually someone gave a precursory apology   
or their condolences and then immediately sought an escape.  Marcus, did not do the expected.    
"Ah... then you have my admiration, Ms. Hollens."

Once again off-balance, Megan didn't really know how to respond. "Your what?  Why?"

The genuine smile of his was frustratingly good at disarming her and she hated it, but she was   
thankful for it at the same time. "It takes a strong child to make it through such a challenging   
time, and a stronger mother to help him.  You have my admiration for raising such a son as well   
as for being strong yourself."

It was the first and only time someone had ever approached the situation from that angle and all   
of Megan's social responses failed to capture what she was thinking.  In the end, the best she   
could manage was a helpless "Thank you?"

Marcus reached out and rested a hand on her shoulder. "Believe me when I say that Il Signore   
wishes the best for you and your son.  I am confident that you will not need to be concerned for   
your safety on the street again."

Clutching her purse even closer to herself at the reminder of why he was visiting, Megan felt at   
a loss yet again. "The... um... Il Signore... is-- I mean... does he... live near Greystone?  Is   
he... on the city council or something?"

The well-dressed man smiled, drawing away from her as he adjusted his tie.  "He lives in   
Greystone, Ms. Hollens."

Marcus pointed over the rooftop of the house across from them on the street.  Several blocks   
down on a slightly raised hill was a large town home.  Although it had roughly the same style as   
the rest of the houses in Greystone it also had a distinct flavor all its own; Megan had noticed   
it many times but, until Marcus' finger was pointing at it she'd never given it a second   
thought. Her response was to-the-point. "Oh."

Her visitor nodded.  "Indeed.  On that note, however, I must bid you a fine day.  Before I   
leave, is there anything else with which I might assist?"

Megan surprised herself and, whether it was to break the ice or (despite not really being into   
older men) to playfully flirt she wasn't sure.  Jokingly, she offered "Well... Cody's next   
treatment is coming up... ten thousand dollars would certainly help."

Marcus' smile returned-- not one that identified the joke as humorous; it was the easy-going,   
empathic one that suggested he understood everything.  "I will speak with Il Signore and see   
what he can do to help."

Part of her wanted to call out to him as he about-faced and tell him she was kidding; another   
part of her argued that he was just responding to her dry humor with some of his own; there was   
another, smaller part that dared to hope that Marcus was serious.  Three days later at the   
hospital, Megan had taken out her credit card to cover her bill but the receptionist only held   
up a hand to decline the transaction. "Your account is paid through the end of the year, Ms.   
Hollens, compliments of Il Signore."

\* \* \* \* \* \*

The enigmatic figure continued to occupy Megan's mind through the course of the week.  She   
focused on her son; Cody was going to turn nine in less than a month but her thoughts were split   
between taking care of her sick son and figuring out what to do to celebrate his birthday.  Cody   
loved birthdays and celebrations always seemed to lift his spirits.  Considering everything he'd   
gone through she was determined to give him every opportunity to be happy.

His treatments were rough, but Cody started feeling better Friday morning and, for the first   
time that week he managed to hold down his breakfast: a piece of toast with a fried egg on it.    
As the day wore on she could tell that his energy was returning; for lunch he actually managed a   
full sandwich with a half-glass of nutrition shake.  They spent the rest of the day alternating   
between watching TV and playing with his legos.  Her time was his until the knock at the front   
door; although she'd only heard the particular rhythm once she knew immediately who it was.    
Answering, Megan was not surprised to see Marcus on her porch.  He bowed his head in greeting.   
"Please apologize if I am intruding."

Once again she stepped out to join him, closing the door behind herself.  Although she'd heard   
the adage never to look a gift horse in the mouth, she'd spent most of the week worrying about   
just what all of the support was costing her.  "You're Italian... and I assume Il Signore is   
too?"

Marcus didn't smile; he simply nodded.  "In a way, yes."

She didn't read too far into his statement, instead, preferring to address her concerns   
directly, but she lowered her voice as she asked "Are you with the... mob?"

He didn't answer her question, instead, Marcus simply held out a small folded card.  "Il Signore   
requests your presence for dinner tomorrow night.  He would like very much to meet you face to   
face."

The constant statements from Marcus always left her off-balance and that usually resulted in her   
feeling confused; it had happened far too often however and that time she was angry.  She didn't   
ask, rather, she demanded  "Are you with the mob, Marcus?  The Mafia-- yes, or no?"

His smile returned full force and he placed his hand to his chest.  "You have my word, Megan   
Hollens; neither Il Signore nor I are affiliated even peripherally with Mafia."

It helped, but only a little.  "Then... who are you?"

His smile faltered marginally.  "If I were to tell you that all shall be revealed tomorrow night   
would you be more inclined to attend?"

She was honest in her answer. "I don't know."

Marcus' smile disappeared altogether and he stated in what felt like an iron-clad bargaining   
tone. "Il Signore would like to propose a treatment for your son's condition, and wishes to do   
so face-to-face."

Megan took a step back toward her door. "Cody is already being treated."

The well-dressed visitor nodded, reaching up to adjust his tie. "Il Signore can do more.  He has   
the resources to cure him."

Yet again, Marcus managed to put her off balance with a statement.  Was he playing with her   
emotions?  Was it some kind of a trick?  "I don't believe you."

Nodding, he lowered his eyes.  "I had advised against such an offer, but Il Signore truly does   
wish only to help."

Lingering at the door, Megan wanted to leave the discussion but, after everything she had   
experienced with regard to Marcus and his employer she very nearly believed that what he was   
proposing could have been possible.  Was it all a pipe dream?  Was she being played?  Why   
couldn't she stop thinking about it.  "What does he want in return?  What is this going to cost   
me?"

As if deciding he had passed some kind of barrier, Marcus' smile returned; Megan hated how much   
that pleased her.  He took a step back before reaching into his coat and pulled out a single   
white rose.  "Three, or perhaps four hours of your time.  Arrive at six, and you may leave at   
ten."

She accepted the flower then looked down at the invitation in her hand. "So... it's.. a dinner   
party?"

He nodded, his smile still in place. "Yes, Ms. Hollens... something like that."

Megan looked between Marcus and the invitation. "And... I'm not saying I WILL come, but, if I   
do, what should I wear, exactly?"

The man smiled; it was entirely different from his prior expression yet still held that warmth   
and openness... and something else.  "You will receive your attire tomorrow afternoon. Think of   
it as... as a costume party."

She hesitated.  "Will I... have a mask or something?"

Marcus' smile faded, and he about-faced, heading off down the steps of her porch.  "No masks,   
Ms. Hollens.  No masks."

\* \* \* \* \*

As promised, a parcel arrived for Megan on Friday evening; the tag on it included only her name.   
 Although she honestly still wasn't sure whether she would go or not, Megan brought the package   
inside and to her room. She opened it carefully, revealing what appeared to be a fine purple   
linen gown of sorts.  Pulling it out of its container, Megan was surprised to find that it was,   
in actuality, more of a long swath of cloth with gold embroidery on it.  Under the linen was a   
card, written in the same crisp, clean handwriting as all of the other cards she'd received from   
Il Signore.  It was a list of directions for how to wrap herself in a toga.  She sighed. "A toga   
party?  Really?"

Even as her reasons not to go continued to build up, she still had trouble convincing herself to   
stay home.  Whether it was out of curiosity or a sense of implied obligation, Megan even tried   
on the toga, making good use of the card; she succeeded with only some minor missteps.  Looking   
at herself in the mirror she had to admit that the ancient clothing had a strange appeal to it;    
she didn't know if she looked 'regal' per se, but, despite being so basic it definitely   
portrayed a unique sense of refinement.

It was not long until evening and, even as she moved about the house, getting a feel for the odd   
garments Megan came to a singular conclusion: she couldn't leave her son alone so she wouldn't   
be able to attend.  A knock at the door complicated matters as, when Megan opened it she saw the   
neighbor's high-school daughter, Mackenzie.  The explanation, as with any of them involving   
Marcus, was simple and to the point: she'd been recruited to watch Cody while Megan went to   
dinner.

Megan had been Cody's sole care provider ever since he took ill; she hadn't been out even once   
and the thought of leaving him alone, even for a handful of hours made her heart pound.  Still,   
she was leaving for an important reason  Still not entirely sure about what she was doing, Megan   
nodded, slowly closing the door to separate herself from the obviously obsessed teen. "Okay...   
um... I'll be back around ten... I guess."

Letting out a deep breath, Megan stood on her porch facing the door for several seconds figuring   
out the best way to walk to the large townhouse half-way across Greystone.  As she turned around   
to face the street the answer presented itself: Marcus stood at the back of a black town car,   
door open for her.  He smiled as she approached.  "I am overjoyed that you have taken Il Signore   
up on his offer."

She didn't respond to his statement, waiting instead for him to close the door and get into the   
driver's seat.  Only then did she ask her question. "What does Il Signore do?"

He glanced at her in the rear-view mirror, his light blue eyes glimmering as he pulled away from   
the curb, the late afternoon sun hitting them right before he pulled down the visor to shield   
his vision. "Your pardon, Ms Hollens... I do not understand the question."

Megan realized just how rude she was for pushing the issue, but she'd blundered her way   
awkwardly through a lack of understanding for long enough that she needed her answers.  "You   
said that he isn't part of the mob--"

Marcus' eyes went to the road again but he continued to speak with her. "Correct.  Il Signore's   
holdings are unaffiliated with any crime family or any form of illegal activity."

Although she continued to pursue the matter she really was bothered by her own lack of manners.    
Regardless, she foraged on ahead.  "What does he do then?"

Her driver responded first in Italian, and then in English. "Un filantropo... as you would say   
in English, a... philanthropist, I believe."

She corrected him by rote, then proceeded with her question. "Philanthropist-- so what does he   
do for a living?  If he does so much good for Greystone, and it's not because of crime, where   
does all of his money come from?"

Marcus slowed the car down and turned into a cobblestone drive way; Megan had a clear view of   
the townhouse as they pulled up toward its ample garage.  Although his voice was neutral, she   
saw a faint twitch of displeasure on his lips.  "Is it normal discussion to question the income   
of a man who wishes to do good for his community?"

The car came to rest in the garage, which already held three other vehicles and, as she looked   
around, Megan answered with casual humor.  "Well, if it was, maybe we'd have better elected   
officials."

The edge of Marcus' lips pulled up in the hint of a smile as he got out of the front seat.  He   
walked around to open the door for her, responding "Il Signore gives back to the community   
because he wishes to do good by his neighbors.  He is the beneficiary of old money-- generations   
of well-invested funds which provide him more than he requires."

Megan accepted his gloved hand and he assisted her out of the car.  She glanced around the   
garage until Marcus indicated a door and led her to it.  She had heard of trust fund babies and,   
although she wasn't in the habit of lumping people into any one group, her limited understanding   
of the type suggested that few were worried about lives outside their own.  "So... he moved to   
Greystone because he wanted to make it a better place?"

Marcus' lack of an answer went unnoticed as he led her into the house.  They emerged from the   
garage into some kind of side-passage entryway; the floor was tiled in marble and, aside from   
the fact that there were two industrial washers and dryers, it looked as if the room could have   
been a rich foyer.  When her guide did speak, it was about the house. "My apologies for bringing   
you in through the garage, Miss Hollens; the front door is in some disrepair and this is a far   
easier route to the dining hall."

She thought nothing of it, but mentioning of the dining hall did make her think.  "Just how many   
people are attending the dinner?"

Marcus came to a complete stop, turning back to look at her in confusion.  "How many?  Just you,   
Miss Hollens."

Megan stopped as well.  "But... I thought Il Signore was hosting a dinner party tonight?"

Her guide completely about faced so he could look at her directly.  "Il Signore never has   
guests, Miss Hollens.  He has invited you here-- and you alone because of my opinion of you and   
your character."

She tried very hard not to take affront to the flattery, but she was already off-guard enough   
that she grew defensive. "I'm sorry, Marcus, but you barely even know me or 'my character'...   
how could--?"

He cut her off by raising a gloved hand. "Miss Hollens, it takes a special kind of woman to   
weather the trials and tribulations of being a single mother, but the mental fortitude and force   
of will to also care for a child who is going through hardships such as yours-- that speaks   
volumes of your character, and it is something I admire very much.  Il Signore has echoed this   
admiration, which is the reason you have been invited to dine with him this night."

\* \* \* \* \*

While it was a touching sentiment, nothing about what she'd been through in her life felt   
particularly worth of admiration, but she said nothing, choosing instead to follow Marcus   
wordlessly.  As it turned out, the 'dining hall' was nowhere near as grandiose as what she'd   
imagined; it was really more of a large dining room.  There was a large, feast-style table that   
looked like it could have seated a dozen people or more but it had been moved to the side   
against the wall; a small, intimate round table with two place settings had taken its place   
beneath a large, lit chandelier.

Marcus pulled a seat out for Megan and then went to a set of heavy cloth curtains, pulling them   
open to reveal a large window with a view of the house's enormous backyard.  Megan glanced out   
into the greenery, which lay sprawling before her, highlighted with the golden rays of the   
setting sun.  Once everything was 'just-so', Marcus turned back to her and offered a courteous   
bow.  "I will step out now; Il Signore will be along shortly."

Despite how little she knew about Marcus aside from the short amount of time she'd spent with   
him periodically throughout the week, he was much less of a stranger than the enigmatic Il   
Signore and she surprised herself by how much the idea of being without him bothered her.  "You   
aren't going to join us?"

He offered his kind, calming smile to her in response. "I will be close by, Signora."

She turned to watch him head back the way they had come; Marcus kept his attention to the door   
as he walked out, fingers deftly undoing his tie as he left.  Letting out a breath, she looked   
down at the place setting in front of her; she was no judge of fine cutlery or china but she was   
left with the impression that the plates, forks, and knives probably cost more than she had in   
the bank.  If she hadn't realized how well-to-do Il Signoire was before then she had absolutely   
no doubt that she was seeing it firsthand.

Her meandering thoughts were stalled by the sound of a loud bang, followed by the clattering   
metallic sound of what sounded like a pot or pan being dropped.  Her first inclination was to   
call out but, unsure whether or not that would be rude, she chose instead to keep her mouth   
shut.  Looking over her shoulder, Megan watched the door, wondering if a half dozen servants   
were going to bring in some huge feast of some kind.  She continued watching it for nearly two   
minutes before it opened and, when it did, what passed through the threshold was no servant...   
it wasn't even human.

Megan gasped, suddenly finding herself staring at an enormous black wolf.  It wasn't a normal   
wolf though, not by a long shot; the creature strode into the room on two legs, walking more   
like a man than a beast.  Rather than being covered only in fur, it wore a toga, much like her   
own, though it was a deep wine red rather than purple.  More than anything, however, what really   
stood out were the pale blue eyes gazing out at her from the dark blackness of its furry face;   
it was looking right at her, as if it had come just for her.  When its muzzle opened she saw   
long white teeth and a broad, lupine tongue which rolled around in its mouth before clearly   
articulating in a deep baritone "Buonasera, signorina."

Frozen in place, continuing to stare at the monster, Megan's brain failed to comprehend that   
it-- that he was speaking to her until the wolf man took a seat opposite her at the table.  She   
was so stunned that the most she could manage in response was "I-- I don't speak... Italian."

The creature's muzzle was surprisingly expressive and he smiled, warmly, in a way that almost   
made her feel at ease.  There was emotion in his features, and a surprising amount of empathy   
for a monster.  Her brain fell out of gear again once she studied the light streaks of gray the   
luxurious mane that looked to double as hair for the wolf man, but it was push-started again the   
moment he let out a barking growl which she realized was a laugh.  "Ah... but of course.  I   
apologize... it is the tongue I have used for many years.  English is better for you though, yes?"

Source: https://sofurry.com/s/5nz5BLdm