A Lasting Impression

pastries she recently discovered on her family’s grand tour of Europe. On the tables to your left”—she gestured—“you’ll find pastries with the name and description of each, as well as the history behind them. Café au lait is available at the table by the main fountain. And on behalf of Mrs. Acklen and everyone at Belmont, thank you again for joining us for William’s eleventh birthday celebration. Bon appétit! ”
    Applause rose from the parents, and Sutton smiled. Nervous as she’d been before she’d gotten up there, Claire Laurent looked as if she’d been directing troops all her life. He sidled up beside her. “Well done, Captain.”
    She grinned up at him, then turned and made a face that only he could see. “I hope the teams can figure out all the clues. If they can’t, I’m blaming you.”
    He laughed. “That’s fine, but I’m pretty sure I can’t go much lower than a corporal.”
    “Well, we’ll just see about—”
    “Well done, Miss Laurent.”
    They both turned to see Adelicia ascending the stairs, young Pauline and Claude racing up beside her. And—much to Sutton’s delight—Adelicia’s mother followed them.
    “Mrs. Hayes,” he said, bowing at the waist. “How wonderful to see you again, ma’am.” Little Pauline reached up to him, and he scooped her up in his arms, relishing her little-girl hug.
    Mrs. Hayes extended a lace-gloved hand, which Sutton kissed. “The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Monroe. I wasn’t about to miss my grandson’s eleventh birthday celebration. Especially not after Adelicia’s lengthy description of the pastries, party favors, and games earlier this week. Although, I don’t quite see the purpose behind intentionally setting the girls’ team against the boys’. We all know that a properly bred young lady will always allow a boy to win. Any lesser behavior would be considered lacking in etiquette.”
    Sutton caught Adelicia’s fleeting frown, and Claire’s less than subtle look of confusion.
    “It’s simply a game, Mother dear,” Adelicia said, her smile back in place. “And I dare say, Miss Laurent, that this is a party William and his friends, and their parents, will remember for years to come. As will I.”
    Her tone was exceptionally gracious, Sutton noted, and the affirmation lighting Claire’s eyes lit something inside him too.
    “Thank you, Mrs. Acklen.” Claire curtsied. “I’m happy that you’re pleased.”
    “Shall we treat ourselves to refreshments, children?” Adelicia asked.
    “I want a Napoléon !” Pauline chimed in.
    With a quick peck to Pauline’s cheek, Sutton set her down, and off she went. Claude followed, racing her down the steps. Arm in arm, Adelicia and Mrs. Hayes descended in more graceful fashion. Sutton was glad to see his employer in the company of Nashville society again, although he noticed that the guests didn’t exactly flock to her as they once had.
    He offered his arm to Claire. “Are you ready for a Napoléon ?”
    With waning enthusiasm, she accepted. “Mrs. Hayes doesn’t like the party.”
    “That’s not true. She’s simply more . . . old-fashioned in some of her opinions. But I can tell you from having known the woman for years that she was impressed with what you’ve done today. And with her daughter . . . for hiring you.”
    “At least temporarily.” Claire gave him a deflated smile.
    When they reached the bottom of the stairs, he covered her hand on his arm. “Don’t let that one comment ruin the day. All right?” He playfully tweaked her chin, glad when her smile blossomed again.
    “Thank you, Sutton.”
    “Oh, Miss Laurent! May we speak with you?”
    “Do you hire out for parties?”
    Seeing a hoard of purposeful mothers heading their way, Sutton made his exit, knowing Claire could manage them without his assistance. Visiting with guests, he feasted on pastries that took him back to the streets and the delectable bakeries of Paris.
    Claire joined him about an hour later and they sat inside a gazebo, grinning along with the parents as they watched the boys and girls dart from statue to building, then building to statue, then back to the low-hanging magnolia branches.
    For most of the hunt it seemed the teams were neck and neck—until he spotted the girls heading for the icehouse.
    “Uh-oh,” he whispered beneath his breath, then looked over to see Claire beaming. “Claire Laurent, how can you be responsible for William’s party and yet want his team to lose? It’s