“I already thought of that. I had that Schneider kid from Public Affairs acquire civilian clothing for you. I figure if you’re not in uniform, the odds of you being recognized go way down.”

“I’m willing to try if you are,” she responded quietly.

“Please.”

The poor man sounded like the weight of the world was parked squarely on his shoulders. No way would she let him face Sam’s funeral alone. Not if she had a chance to stand by his side and lend him strength or emotional support. Frankly, she was impressed that he’d asked for support of any kind. He must be even more torn up over Sam’s death than she’d realized.

“I’ll be back in a sec,” he murmured.

He swept out of her room, and she used the moment to hit the restroom and brush her teeth. Then Griffin was back with a paper bag and a familiar suitcase.

“Where did you get my pageant kit? I was hoping Schneider would throw it out after that stupid press conference.”

Griffin handed her the bag, and she pulled out a conservative dark-blue dress that was perfect for a funeral. Schneider had even gotten her size right. She made a mental note to thank him the next time she saw him. She already owed him an apology for blowing up his press event.

While she dressed and did understated makeup that would be a fitting tribute to Sam and not cry off her face, Griffin perched a hip on the windowsill.

He commented, “Your performance at that press conference made quite a stink. Cal caught holy hell for you going off script until it became clear the press loved you.”

She glanced at his reflection in her mirror, shrugging as they made eye contact. “I read the room and took a chance.”

“You were lucky.”

“I’m also good at my job. Well, my former job.”

She pulled her hair back into a low bun and secured it with bobby pins.

“What did your instructor buddies think of the press conference?” she asked curiously as she covered her bun with a tasteful black lace net.

Griffin scowled. “They couldn’t shut up about how hot you were.”

She laughed a little. “Well, it was the Navy that insisted I get all prettied up. That wasn’t my idea.”

“Honey, there’s no disguising your beauty. I expect if you put a paper bag over your head, you’d still find a way to look great wearing it.”

She stood up and turned around to face him. “This isn’t a paper bag, but do I look okay?”

He pushed off the sill to come stand in front of her. He rested his hands lightly on her shoulders. “Sherri, I’m not kidding. You’re going to be turning heads when you’re ninety. You’re stunning. It’ll be an honor to have you on my arm.”