Sorry if I psyched anyone out. I forgot to put a little something in this chapter, and I didn't remember it until after I'd posted it. Sorry for any confusion!
Okay, I have another chance to update!! Finally! I'm so sorry that it's been so long since I've updated. I've been really busy, plus I can't get on the computer until my dad gets home because my parents have put parental blocks on them. And let me tell y'all, it's really annoying!
Anyway, I'm waiting one more chapter for last-minute votes. Who would you like to see next? Alice/Jasper, or Emmett/Rosalie? I'm saving Edward/Bella for last, so please don't ask.

Oh, and for the outfits of Carlisle and the valets, look on my profile. I've updated that as well.

EsPOV

When I saw Carlisle at the door, I almost swooned. He was very good-looking in his white pressed shirt, burgundy-patterned vest, tie, grey jacket and grey slacks.

I looped my arm through his offered one, and we set off. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Carlisle look back at the girls. I looked back as well and saw Alice and Bella were smiling away, but Rosalie still looked a little apprehensive.

She'll get over it, I thought. It wasn't like I hadn't been on dates before, but the girls had always picked guys they thought they could trust after…Don't think about it!

"Esme, what's wrong?" I heard Carlisle ask. I started messing with my dress, a nervous habit I had that irritated the heck out of Alice.

"What? Oh, nothing," I said, not wanting to ruin our date when it hadn't even started. "I was just thinking about the way Rosalie looked at us; almost like she wanted to smile, but wouldn't allow herself to. It's not really like her."

"She's probably just worried about you," Carlisle said. "Just give her time. If she likes me, she'll come around. If not…well, I'll see what I can do to change that."

"Do you mean it Carlisle?" I asked. He really was too sweet. He wanted to make sure my friends liked him as well as me. That wasn't something I saw in most guys nowadays.

"Of course I mean it, Esme," he said, putting his hand on top of mine on his arm. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I don't know," I said truthfully. "It's just that most of the guys we meet want to go out with one of us, and don't care about the rest of us. It just irritates the snot out of all of us. We consider ourselves a bit of a package deal. It's either the guys likes all of us, or dates none of us."

"Well, I don't think you'll have to worry about my little brothers on that one," Carlisle answered with a smile. We walked in a comfortable silence until we got to his Mercedes.

"Can you please tell me where it is we're going?" I asked him.

"I told you, it's a surprise," Carlisle said. "But I can thank Alice and Rosalie for having you ready to go pretty much as soon as I walked in."

"Thank Alice," I said. "She'd slipped into some kind of…trance, I guess you could call it, but only for about a second. Then she was dragging me and Rosalie to her room of the suite, and stuffing me into this dress." I looked down at my dress. It was one of the formal ones I'd brought with me to the park, as we'd all decided that we wanted to see what kind of restaurants were here. "Anyway, I'm actually glad I brought this dress. We look like a married couple."

When I said the word married, Carlisle looked at me with something akin to surprise in his eyes. I realized my faux pas and tried to correct it.

"Not that I'm saying that I'm going to marry you," I babbled. Then I winced. "That didn't come out right. I'm just…I meant that it…oh, gosh, I'm totally messing this up, aren't I?"

Carlisle just smiled and came around to open the car door on my side. "I know what you meant," he said good-naturedly. "And I agree. We do look like a married couple. But I think what you mean is that, just because we're going out, doesn't mean it's instant wedding bells. I think that it would be great if we got married, but it's way too soon to be booking the church."

I sighed with relief and got into the car. He did understand. Most guys, as soon as they heard anything loosely related to marriage, bolted.

Carlisle started the car, and started driving in almost the same direction as the French restaurant we went to the other day. I looked at him, but at the fork in the road about 5 miles from the restaurant, he turned left instead of right. My face must have been showing my confusion, because he just looked at me and smiled. After another 10 minutes of driving, he pulled up to the front of the restaurant. A boy of about 16 wearing a gold vest, white undershirt, and brown pants came up to the car, and got in the driver's side when Carlisle and I got out.

"Valet parking," I said. "I'm impressed. Where are we, anyway?"

"The place where my father proposed to my mother about 30 years ago," Carlisle said, offering his arm to me again. I took it, and we walked in together.

CPOV

When we walked through the double doors, I approached the hostess at her podium.

"Table for 2, please?" I said.

"I'm sorry, sir, but the wait will be about an hour," she said.

"May I please speak to the owner?" I asked her. She looked at me as if she couldn't believe what I was saying. Why would I want to speak to the owner? Like it would make a difference.

She shrugged, and went to get the owner anyway; probably just to humor the impatient man with his beautiful girlfriend. The thought of Esme as my girlfriend made me smile. I turned to her, picked up her hand from where it lay on my arm, and kissed the back of her hand softly. Her skin took on a slight pinkish tinge that looked adorable on her.

I don't know how long we stood there staring at each other like lovesick fools, but eventually a distinct English-accented voice said, "Carlisle, how are you, son?"

"I'm well, Alistair," I said, reluctantly letting go of Esme's hand and shaking his, which led to him pulling me into at hug. "How are you?"

"Busy, as usual," Alistair said, letting go of me. "And how is your father?"

Alistair and my father had grown up together in Virginia and still kept in touch. He was like a brother to my father, and an uncle to my brothers and me.

"My father is doing fine," I told him. "And because I know you will ask, the park is doing well."

"Good, good," Alistair said. "And who is this lovely young lady?"

"Mr. Collins, allow me to introduce my girlfriend, Esme," I said, not able to keep the smile off of my face. Then I turned to my girlfriend and said, "Esme, this is Mr. Alistair Collins, my dad's best friend, and the owner of this restaurant."

"How do you do, Mr. Collins?" Esme said, putting her hand out. Alistair took her offered hand and kissed it much like I had just a few seconds earlier.

"Very well, my dear," Alistair said, "and please, call me Alistair. None of that 'Mr. Collins' business. Only my employees call me that, and it makes me feel older than I already am."

"Alistair, you are not old," I said. He was as old as my father—52—but he didn't look a day over 35, unlike my father who pretty much looked his age.

"Carlisle, please," Alistair said, "the fact that your 24th birthday is in about 2 months makes me feel like an old man. I've known your father since we went to school together more than 45 years ago."

Esme interrupted our little banter, thankfully, by saying, "Your birthday is in 2 months?"

"Yes," I said, "and Edward's is next month. He'll finally be in his 20s!"

"And how are your brothers, Carlisle?" Alistair asked. He then turned to the hostess and said, "Have the boys prepare a private table."

"Yes, sir, Mr. Collins," she said, beaming at him. She signaled for us to follow her. I took Esme's hand, and we followed the hostess. When she sat us down at a private table, she asked if she could start us off with some water and that our waiter would be right out. When she left, I looked at Esme.

"So, what do you think so far?" I asked her.

"I think you have some very nice connections," she said admirably. She looked at her menu, and flipped over to the wine section. "So, what wines are good here?"

"Hm," I said, trying to think of the best wines they served here. I took my menu, and looked at the wine section as well. When I spotted the 2 I'd liked last time I came here, I said, "Either the 2001 Clos du Bois Zinfandel, or the 2001 Viña Santa Ema Cabernet Sauvignon."

"Huh," she said, looking at her menu. "I've never heard of those."

"They are great with dinner," I told her. "The zinfandel has delicate spice notes, with vanilla and coconut nuances mingling with dried berry flavors," I recited from the book my dad had back at our house, "and the cabernet has some moderate berry fruit, picking up herb and dried cherry notes on the back end, and the finish has slightly dusty tannins, but could use a bit more succulent fruit. Both wines are good, but I like the cabernet."

"Okay, then," she said. "We'll go with the cabernet. By the way, how do you know so much about wines?"

"Well," I said, telling her my secret, "my dad has this book at our house called the Ultimate Guide to Buying Wine: Eighth Edition, and it's really helpful at wine tasting parties. My dad takes it every time he goes to one, and it really helps him choose really good wines. And since my dad took me to one a last year, he had me read it front to back so that I wouldn't end up choosing…less than satisfactory wines."

"Wow. That's cool. I wish my parents were like that. But my mom is way against ladies heavily drinking, and my dad thinks that ladies shouldn't drink period," she said, looking at me. "Whenever my mom used to sneak a glass of wine before she went to bed, my father would yell at her about drinking his wine. It was quite frightening at times, but I got used to it. It got to a point where I would just stay in my room, blast my radio, and wait until they stopped yelling."

"That's a terrible way to grow up!" I said, meaning it whole-heartedly. "What kind of parents—"

"The kind that grew up the same way," she said in defense. I had to admit, she was loyal; loyalty wasn't really something that I found in a lot of girls I met. A couple of them were just opportunists. "Anyway, my parents were supportive of me, though, as long as I didn't drink under their roof. They tried not to show that their marriage was in danger, but they had just gotten through a divorce when I moved. Mom got custody of me and found another guy, and dad found another woman. My stepmom is great, though. She makes my dad happy. And my stepdad is cool. He treats me as if I were his daughter instead of just his stepdaughter."

"Sounds good," I said. I felt a little…honored that she was sharing her family with me, albeit the fact that her parents were divorced, but still, it was something. I was about to say something else, but the waiter chose that moment to come out and get our order, and bring us the wine. I ordered us the cabernet, and we told him to come back in a few minutes before we ordered dinner. We looked at our menus, and after about 5 minutes, the waiter came back for our order. I ordered Pasta Primavera, which was pasta tossed with sautéed vegetables, herbs, and extra virgin olive oil, and Esme ordered Chicken Marsala, chicken sautéed and served in a marsala wine and mushroom sauce. When the waiter left to put in our order, Esme tried the cabernet.

"Carlisle, this is wonderful," she said after she swallowed it. She'd closed her eyes while she was drinking it, and I could see that she did in fact find it wonderful. I took a sip of my own wine, and it was as good as I remembered from the wine tasting party my dad had thrown last year.

We resumed talking, but we didn't approach the subject of her parents again, and that was alright with me. She'll tell me more when she's ready, I thought to myself. We talked a little about ourselves—where we grew up, where we went to school. We also talked about what we wanted in life. When I told her that I was studying to be a pediatrician, her eyes became as wide as the saucers in front of us.

"A pediatrician?" she asked.

"Yes," I said. "I've always loved working with kids, and by being a pediatrician, I can help make them better. I've seen too many kids with serious cuts and bruised everywhere, whether from home, or from playing outside, but I've also seen so many with incurable diseases. It breaks my heart to have to see them suffer like that."

"They're too young to have to deal with that," she agreed. "And, personally, I'm glad you chose to be a kid doctor. Not many guys I know would willingly choose that profession."

"Yeah, well, I'm not most guys," I told her, a small frown on my face. Our food came then—I suspected that Alistair had something to do with the quickness of our food coming out—and we started eating. It wasn't until we were almost done with our meals that we started talking again.

"Carlisle, this food is amazing," Esme said. "I can't believe you actually got us a decent table right away."

"Connections, my dear," I said. "It's all about who you know, and I happen to know the owner of this particular restaurant."

"How fortunate for you," she muttered under her breath. I wasn't sure I was supposed to hear that, so I didn't mention it.

The waiter came back with the check, and I could see Esme digging in her purse.

"What are you doing?" I asked, taking three $20s out of my wallet and putting it in the book.

"What?" she asked, an innocent look on her face, while she tried to hide the fact that she'd tried paying for our meal.

"We're on a date, I brought you here, I'm paying," I told her. Why does she feel like she has to pay? I thought to myself. What kind of guys has she dated in the past?

The waiter came back almost immediately for the book, I told him to keep the change—because I knew our meal was only about $55, knowing Alistair—pulled back Esme's chair for her, offered my arm once again, and led her out of the restaurant, tossing a smile over my shoulder at Alistair.

So, what did you guys think? Again, I'm really sorry I haven't updated in forever! Busy schedules are a pain. Not to mention the darn parental controls.

Okay, enough of my ranting. Oh, and that wine book that Carlisle was talking about? I actually found that book in my game room, and started looking through it. The descriptions are straight from the book, though, so I can't take credit for writing that myself.

Remember, I'm still taking last-minute votes for the next couple. Alice/Jasper, or Emmett/Rosalie? You guys decide!