The Bare Truth part 2

Chapter 7

They named her Cinnamon.

She was a brown poodle mixed with who knows what. She was fifty pounds and more fluff than actual dog. Sierra had a theory that if they shaved her she might just disappear all together. She had soulful big brown eyes that begged them to take her home.

Sierra was amused and faintly alarmed to discover that when you're the Governor, adopting a dog requires three consultants, several charitable donations, and a press conference. He couldn't simply walk into a pet store and buy a puppy. It had to be an adult dog. One from a shelter, who would have otherwise died had Joe not rescued her. But the shelter couldn't be one that puts animals to sleep with abandon. It had to be one that would love to be a "no kill" shelter if not for a tragic lack of funding. Then, of course, came the sizeable donation from Joe to rectify the funding lackage.

A groomer had to be brought in to make sure Cinnamon looked absolutely pristinely clean and fluffed before exiting the shelter. She had a new patent leather collar and a silver, heart shaped ID tag. Sierra and Joe were also spiffed up for the occasion; Joe in his trademarked rolled up shirtsleeves and slacks, Sierra in a burgundy form fitting dress and matching heals with pearls, looking every inch the respectable partner.

It was, after all, an election year.

A small mob of press were waiting outside, including Kelly, the new girl at The Post who basically held her old fluff piece job. It was strange for Sierra being on this side of the microphones. She had, of course, promised Kelly an exclusive photo shoot later.

Ever since her story on the "escaped bear" last year, Sierra's career had really taken off. Now she did stories on elections, important trials, and political scandals. They no longer sent her out to cover the exciting world of celebrity pet adoptions.

Sierra stood a little behind Joe, holding on to Cinnamon's leash as he gave his statement. Cinnamon was quite excited about all the attention. She was happily wagging her tail and drooling on Sierra's shoes.

"Cinnamon, like all the animals here, just wanted a good home, with a loving family. I wish I could take every one of these cats and dogs home, but I can't. That's why I need your help. If you're thinking of getting a new pet, consider adopting one of the many cats and dogs from shelters just like this one. If you can't adopt right now, your donations ensure that these animals receive food and shelter."

Joe opened the floor up for questions.

"So will you be a single parent? Or will you and Ms. Christie be raising Cinnamon together?" one reporter asked.

Joe turned to Sierra and smiled.

"I'll be taking care of Cinnamon myself," Joe said, "Though I'm sure she'll enjoy visiting with Ms. Christie as much as I do."

Cinnamon barked, as if in approval, eliciting laughter from the press.

A few more questions and many adorable photographs later, Joe, Sierra, and Cinnamon were in the town car on their way home.

"Perhaps I misspoke," Joe mused.

"What do you mean?" Sierra asked as she scratched Cinnamon behind the ears.

"Maybe we should be raising her together."

Sierra laughed.

"I don't know. Me? A parent? I'm not sure I'm ready for that kind of commitment," she joked.

"I'm serious," Joe said.

Sierra considered it.

"Wouldn't we have to live together first?" she asked. "Won't that upset the conservative voting demographic? Us shacking up? Living in sin with our bastard child?"

"So let's get married," Joe replied without missing a beat.

Sierra choked on her water.

"Was that a proposal?" she asked him, bewildered.

Joe fell into shocked silence, thinking on the words that had just come out of his mouth.

"No," he said finally. "No, of course not."

Sierra felt her heart sink. The feeling surprised her. She had never considered herself to be the marrying kind. She valued her independence too much to be tied down by a traditional family life. And yet when she thought about Joe, the possibility of marriage and babies, or even fur babies, didn't seem so bad. Maybe she really was the marrying kind. She just hadn't found the right guy yet.

"I wouldn't just propose to you in an offhand manner in the back of a town car," Joe elaborated. "If I were to ask you to marry me, it would be special. There'd be music and moonlight and champagne and roses. I'd get down on one knee with the biggest diamond I could find and beg you to be mine. That would be how I'd propose. Not like this."

Sierra smiled.

"Well..." she said slowly, "I'll look forward to that."