Sondra set herself in position in the chair beside Garrison’s. The small table between their chairs was the only separation, and the chairs were angled slightly toward each other. Maris showed some exasperation while she moved all her equipment to light the new positions and set up the automatic cameras that would record Garrison and Sondra independently throughout the entire interview.
When she was set up, Maris prepared the harness for her to carry the steady-cam. She would move around the pair during the interview capturing close-ups and profile shots. She clipped tiny microphones on Garrison and Sondra’s collars and started the audio recorder that would run steadily during the interview and capture every word. Maris knew that some of the juiciest items happen when subjects think the equipment is not on. Editing later, she could put all the best pieces together into a well-paced, informative interview.
“Ready when you are,” Maris said after testing and adjusting her steady-cam. “And soon, please… this rig is heavy.”
“Please be seated, Sondra,” Garrison said. Sondra made herself comfortable in the chair beside Garrison and began the interview. She asked the powerful man where he came from and what motivated him to attain so much success. He admitted that fear of poverty had been a driving force in his life ever since his own impoverished childhood. The interview continued as expected until Rainbird interrupted them for lunch.
They sat at a round table in a bright solarium. There were four of them at the table, because Rainbird sat with them after she brought the food cart from the kitchen. Sondra noted that this indicated that she was not just a housekeeper.
Conversation was sparse during lunch. The food was spectacular, and included an appetizer of jumbo shrimp with wonderful spicy sauce followed by lobster tails and sweet butter sauce. There was a Fettuccine Alfredo side dish, and baked Alaska for desert. Maris’ coarse nature was somewhat melted by the fine meal and wine, as well as the warm atmosphere around the table. Rainbird had been especially gracious toward Maris, who responded with uncharacteristic warmth.
“This is a really fabulous meal, Rainbird,” Maris said. Sondra was surprised to notice a girlish tone that she had never previously seen in Maris.
“Thank you, Maris,” Rainbird replied. Sondra was surprised to see a lady-like aura about Rainbird that she would not have expected. “I’ll be happy to show you my kitchen. It’s a wonderful environment for what I do there.”
“Thank you,” Maris said. “I’d like to see it. Some footage will be helpful for the broadcast, as well.”
Sondra looked at Truman and saw that he was watching Rainbird with a look on his face that appeared to be apprehension.
“Will you let me know when you’re free?” Rainbird said.
“Perhaps this evening,” Maris said, “after this afternoon’s shoot is done.”
“Nonsense,” said Truman Garrison. Sondra saw him recover his composure before he spoke. “There’s no need to hurry this… uh… project. We can continue tomorrow. You can stay a day or two, can’t you dear?” Garrison said, looking into Sondra’s wide eyes.
“Why… yes, I suppose we can,” Sondra said. “I’ll call our executive producer and clear it.” She looked at Maris who smiled at her. Sondra shrugged slightly. Things were unfolding in a most unexpected way.
The group chatted amiably over the baked Alaska desert and fresh coffee. In the end, Garrison excused himself to go to his computer to complete some communications. Sondra returned to the cottage to call her boss about the extended stay. Meanwhile, Maris went with Rainbird to the kitchen.
When Sondra told Richard Morrison, the executive producer, about the extra time, he was overjoyed and told her they would make a TV special out of it. Sondra hurried back to the big house to give Maris the good news. She found her way to the kitchen and cautiously pushed through the swinging door. She didn’t see anyone until she stepped further into the room to peer around some stainless steel pots hanging on a rack. She heard a sound like moaning and looked in that direction. She shrank back and spied between some of the hanging pots to see Rainbird and Maris.
Rainbird was sitting up on the kitchen counter with her buckskin skirt gathered around her waist while Maris stood in front of her, bent over with her face in Rainbird’s pussy. Rainbird’s head was tilted back against an overhead cupboard, rolling back and forth while she moaned in ecstasy. She watched for a minute while Maris eagerly licked and kissed the native woman’s pussy, until she began to become aroused by what she saw. The tingles in her own pussy and the moisture in her panties grew uncomfortable. She remembered vividly her unexpected coupling with Maris, and it trebled her discomfort. She turned and quietly left the kitchen and made for the front door when she was halted by a call from the study.
“I assume there’s no problem for you to stay to complete the interview,” Truman Garrison said. He came toward her and held out his hand. “Come, I’ll show you the house.”
“To tell the truth, Mister Garrison,” Sondra said as she took his hand, “my boss was happy. He’d like to make an hour special about you. Maybe call it ‘A Visit with Truman Garrison’, if you approve.”
“We’ll see,” Truman said. “To begin with, you must stop calling me Mister Garrison, and get comfortable with just plain Truman, or even Tru.”
“I’ll try, T- Truman. It’s just that you’re so famous, an important person, and it’s difficult to be that familiar.”
“We must overcome that, Sondra,” Truman said while he led Sondra toward a grand staircase. “I think it would be a very good thing if we were more familiar.” Sondra became a bit flustered. Having the beginnings of what sounded like seduction coming from this man to whom she had been attracted for some time was simultaneously stimulating and intimidating. She began to envision herself making love with Truman. He was about twenty years older than she was, but still youthfully energetic and certainly very handsome and in excellent shape. Better, Sondra thought, than most of the men in their forties whom she met through her work. The only men she met through her work were immature and quite boring. The sense of adventure that surrounded the somewhat mysterious Truman Garrison was far more stimulating than the awful sameness of most of the men who wanted to date Sondra Childerhouse.
Sondra was not only very attractive to the eye, with her dark blue eyes, clear alabaster complexion and cascades of shining black hair. She was also attractive to hear, with a warm voice that was comforting and expressive to hear when she spoke. And she spoke several times each week on television. She was not truly a celebrity, but she was a favourite of the local community who chose the small local station over the big network stations that were in the same market. Unknown to Sondra, Truman Garrison was an avid watcher, and had fallen in love with the young broadcaster without ever meeting her.