Nathan tiredly filed into the bright and spacious lobby, filled with thick carved wood paneling. He had been accustomed to top of the line hotels and penthouse suites even before he became a sports superstar in his own right. Money and the finer things were just synonymous with having the last name "Scott" in Tree Hill. Even at the hour there was a great deal of activity. Men in tailored business suits and women in furs and jewels were passing by.

"Scott, Penthouse suite", he said to the woman at the desk as he prepared to check in.

"Of course, Mr. Scott. We've been expecting you and we hope you enjoy your stay. A complimentary bar and of course room service and a personal courier will be dispatched 24 hours a day at your service."

"Thanks."

"Your key, sir."

Nathan took it and examined the card.

"Doesn't this hotel have 50 floors?" he asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Is this still the penthouse? It says mine is on the 49th."

"Yes sir. We have two identical penthouse suites located on the 49th and 50th floors."

"That's cool but if you don't mind, I'd like to switch. I just dig the top floor if, if you know what I mean."

"We would normally be happy to accommodate you, Mr. Scott, however another guest has already occupied that suite."

Nathan nodded. Oh well. It wasn't like he had been reduced to the Days Inn. A Ritz Carlton penthouse was still a Ritz Carlton penthouse, even if it wasn't on the top floor. He was tired anyway and he wanted to call Megan. Cutting his losses, he let the bellboy lead him to the elevator.

A young elevator operator dressed in a clean red uniform nodded towards Nathan.

"Evening, sir."

"Good evening. Uh, penthouse, 49th floor please."

"Wait, you're Nathan Scott, right?"

Nathan nodded.

"Yeah, dude."

"It's an honor to meet you. You're my favorite player. I know it's not very professional and the boss would have my head if he found out, but is it possible to get your autograph?"

Nathan sighed.

"Yeah. Sure, man. Got something for me to sign?"

The man smiled and had Nathan autograph a hotel brochure attached to a clipboard.

"Thank you, sir."

"No, problem."

"49th floor…"

The young man nodded again, only to be interrupted by a small voice rushing towards them.

"Hold the elevator, please."

She dashed in and didn't pay much attention to the man already inside. But he'd recognize that voice anywhere. He just couldn't believe the unjust irony of the situation.

"Haley James? The singer?"

"Uh…yeah", she struggled to speak after realizing Nathan was also on the elevator.

Her soon to be ex husband, in the Dominican Republic, in the same hotel, on the same elevator, headed in the same direction.

"I am such a fan, Ms. James. Please. Your voice is touched by God. Will you sign?"

"Thank you", she smiled. "You're such a sweetheart."

Nathan rolled his eyes.

"How about this?" the operator asked out loud. "Only my second day on the job and I meet two famous people at the same time. Haley James and Nathan Scott! My wife will never believe my luck. You two know each other."

Nathan refused to even look at her.

"No", he said sternly.

"Too bad. Ms. James, your penthouse is just above Mr. Scott's. One floor up."

Nathan cringed. It was bad enough she had taken a piece of his life. She had to take the top floor as well?

"Yeah…too bad", Haley muttered.

Nathan shot her a mean look.

"A real tragedy", he mumbled sarcastically.

Finally the longest and most awkward elevator ride in history came to an end as the car stopped on the 49th floor.

"Mr. Scott, can I help you with anything? Your bags?"

"I'm fine, man. Actually, there is one thing you can do. Have someone bring me up a bottle of your finest champagne and some strawberries too."

"Yes, sir. Strawberries and champagne, huh? Must be a real special night", the operator grinned.

"Damn right. I'm celebrating. Tonight is a special occasion. Rejoicing in spending a lovely few days here in the Dominican Republic and getting an old moneky off my back while I'm at it."

He made sure to glare at Haley who only rolled her eyes and shook her head in disgust. She was delighted when he finally exited the elevator and she could resume the short trip to her floor. Once inside the spacious confines of her room, she flopped down on the bed, cursing as she saw the red button flash on the phone indicating she had messages. There was only one and she listened to it, sighing as she called the person back.

"Keller…"

"Duh. Dude, you know it's me. You do have Caller ID. Why can't you just say hi?"

"I see a day of fun and sun in the lovely Dominican have done nothing to improve that pissy attitude of yours."

"Well, it's not exactly a dream vacation, Chris. Now what's up? Why are you calling me at the hotel?"

"Just checking to see if you were okay."

"Why do I find that hard to believe? But if that's your true motive, then I'm fine. I'm here on the spur of a moment for a quickie divorce from my bitter and estranged ex husband who, by the way, coincidentally happens to be staying just one floor down from me in the same hotel. Other than that, life is just peachy. How's life on your end?"

"That good, huh?" he chuckled. "See, I knew the minute you told me where you were going I should have joined you."

"Oh yeah? Chris Keller and Nathan Scott in the same hotel? That's just what the world needs, World War III. Besides, I need you in New York to take care of CAT. And speaking of, how is my baby?"

"Being a brat and scratching up my furniture and overall? It's a real pain. Cats just aren't my thing. I'm not doing this for you again either. What the hell? Do I have the word 'kennel' tattooed across my forehead or something?"

"It's not that bad", Haley laughed.

"It's worse and if she hisses at me one more time, I swear I'm gonna put my foot in her ass."

"Chris, you kick my cat and I will kick your ass."

"Now we're talking", he grinned. "I might let you have your way with me but for now there are more pressing issues."

"Like?"

"It just came up. A 23 city tour across the U.S. starting in Seattle, ending in Detroit. What do you say?"

"I don't know, Chris. I'm trying to take a break before my next album. And what about Michelle? She's in no condition for another tour right now."

"Who said anything about Michelle? I love her and Jessica to death but we don't need The Wreckers or Gavin Degraw to sell tickets. What the hell do you think this is, The Mamas and The Papas? Come on. People love Chris Keller and Haley James. They pay to see us. It's you and me, kid. What's it gonna be?"

Haley sighed.

"I don't know. Can I think about it and get back to you? It sounds cool but I'm just so tired of going on the road and…"

"You're a musician, James. This is your life, the life you chose. And musicians are always on the road. There's no such thing as not being on the road. And if you're not on the road, then you're getting ready to go on the road."

Haley groaned. He was right about that.

"Okay, okay. Let me just get the divorce from Hell over and get off Gilligan's Island and we'll set something up, okay?"

"Now you're talking. That's my girl."

Haley hung up unphased that Chris Keller had talked her into something else. His prodding had guided her musical career over the years and had really been a professional asset. Yet somehow, his direction sometimes spilled over to her personal life. She couldn't help but think that was the reason she was in Santa Domingo in the first place.

Flipping on the TV, Haley picked up the phone again.

"Room Service? Hi, Haley James in top floor penthouse. Could I please have a delivery of champagne and strawberries? With chocolate and whipped cream, thank you."

She smiled to herself. Turning on the Jacuzzi and gearing up for old episodes of The Mary Tyler Moore show, a room service treat would be just what she needed to relax before the hectic days ahead. She and Nathan may have had their differences but his idea wasn't bad. Maybe she should celebrate, too.