Side By Side 7

Author's note: This is a complete story with a strong focus on emotional intimacy and slow-burn tension. A romance between a movie star and her assistant, it's playful, heartfelt, and laced with longing. If you're after something fast or steamy, you might want to look elsewhere. Heartfelt thanks to

redgarters

for their insights and good instincts that helped bring this one to life.

Chapter 1

"I can't believe I can't find my clothes."

"Find what?" Rachel Williams replied, resigning herself to the situation with an amused smirk. She sat on the bed, hunched forward with elbows resting on her knees, slowly tapping her iPad against her forehead in an effort not to go mad.

"My clothes, Rey. I can't find my clothes."

"Have you tried looking in the closet?"

Jessica peered out from the enormous walk-in closet.

"I

am

in my closet. But they're not on the floor where I put them."

"Ah, the floor," Rey nodded sagely. "Perhaps check the shelves?"

"But I put them on the floor. I have a system."

Rey raised an eyebrow. "You have a system?"

Jessica leaned back out again. "Yeah, duh. Hey, why are you hitting yourself?"

A very good question,

Rey thought, continuing to tap the tablet against her head. Almost regretting it, she pressed on.

"Tell me about this system of yours."

"So I had three piles, and like..." Jessica's brows furrowed.

"Sorted by color?"

"No."

"By type?"

"No."

"How dirty the clothes were?"

A slight pause.

"Maybe."

"Sounds like a solid system you had there."

"You're making fun of me."

Rey kept tapping the tablet against her forehead. "Gosh, no."

"Uh-huh, you are. How long have you been with me?"

"Coming up on six months, Ms. Tyler."

Jessica popped her head out again. "I pick up on these things, you know," she said, tapping her temple.

"Maybe the maid actually folded the clothes for you, put them on hangers, or took them to the laundry?"

"You think?" Jessica made the whole idea sound utterly ludicrous.

"A distinct possibility, yes."

Jessica's eyes wandered over the closet before finally stepping out.

"Where are we going again?"

Rey looked up and was greeted by the brown-eyed goddess that was Jessica Tyler, her hair still damp from the shower. She moved with the easy grace one might expect from a woman like her, but the contrast to her personality was always jarring.

Movie star by night. Lovable doofus by day.

And she was still only wearing a thong—one lonely scrap of fabric barely separating those flawless cheeks. Embarrassed on behalf of the superstar, Rey quickly looked down again.

"Please get dressed, Ms. Tyler. We're supposed to be at the studio for the taping of the late-night show."

"But I have nothing to wear," Jessica whined, biting her nails like a nervous teen.

Rey stood and made her way towards the closet.

"Stop biting your nails, Ms. Tyler," she said gently, placing her hand on Jessica's and easing it down in one fluid motion as she brushed past.

"Here we go," Rey continued, as she held up a sleek black dress and a matching pair of heels.

"Ooh! That one is nice."

Rey could only smile.

Jessica pulled the dress on, skipping a bra, her nipples making a compelling argument against formality.

"Beautiful dress, but a bra, please, Ms. Tyler."

"Yes, yes, of course... Wait, why?"

"I want the audience captivated by your face, not your breasts."

"Right." Jessica admired herself in the mirror. "I do have great titties, though."

"Yes, you do. Maybe start an OnlyFans," Rey said absently, already flicking through the week's calendar on the iPad.

"What's that?"

Shit.

"A, uh, website where you can show off your snuggle puffs and get paid."

"No way?"

"Please don't get any ideas. Your movies gross hundreds of millions. Everyone's seen your girls already."

Off with the dress, on with a bra, then back on with the dress. Rey stepped in behind her, fingers finding the zipper.

"What would I do without you?" Jessica asked. Her voice was light and teasing, but somewhere in the back of her mind the question lingered in darker places. Lonely nights, too much wine, forgettable sex: all desperate attempts to fill the silence.

"I wonder the same thing, Ms. Tyler," Rey replied evenly.

Jessica chuckled and spun in front of the mirror, all effortless beauty and charm cranked to eleven.

"Now let's get to the studio. Shoo shoo, Ms. Tyler," Rey said as she swatted after her.

As they headed out, Rey caught her reflection in the hallway mirror. Her dusty blonde hair was pulled into a neat ponytail, and perched on her nose were the designer glasses she'd gifted herself earlier that year: sleek and more for vibe than vision.

She wore a crisp white tailored blazer over a sleeveless blouse, tucked into high-waisted cream trousers that hugged her frame just right. No jewelry, save for a slim silver watch that ticked away with quiet precision. Functional. Minimal. Effortlessly polished. She looked like someone who had her life together.

Which, frankly, made one of them.

The sun greeted them with an almost theatrical spotlight as they stepped outside and into the waiting car. Sunglasses on, windows up, and off they went—headed toward another evening in the glittering world of showbiz.

At the studio, Jessica transformed.

Rey stood behind the scenes, arms crossed, leaning against the wall in the wings as Jessica worked the stage like it was made for her—which, in a way, it was. She sparred with the host effortlessly, hitting punchlines with a twinkle in her eye. She had a feel for tempo, for turning the audience into putty. A little laugh here. A wink there. A well-timed story just risqué enough to keep the crowd hooked but not gasping.

Rey watched, quietly impressed. Jessica didn't just read the room; she rewrote it.

After the taping wrapped, there were handshakes, air kisses, a flurry of thank-yous, and the familiar buzz of everyone pretending they weren't exhausted.

As the studio began to clear out, Jessica turned, catching wind of something: someone had whispered about a party downtown, something exclusive, something very chic.

She looked at Rey.

That look.

Puppy eyes, mischief cranked to maximum, the barely contained grin that said 'I already want to go, and you know you're going to let me'.

Rey sighed, lips twitching into a reluctant smile. "Fine. But don't overdo it, okay?"

Jessica gasped in betrayal. "When have I ever overdone it?"

Rey gave her a long look.

Jessica held up her hand defensively. "Okay, okay, I'll try to behave!"

Rey just shook her head as she waved Jessica goodbye.

Jessica hummed with excitement as she left, swept up in a flurry of assistants, studio staff, and whatever glittering social scene awaited her on the other side of the parking lot.

Rey lingered near the stage exit, eyes flicking toward the edge of the bustle.

Then she turned to Jake.

As far as Rey knew, Jake had no last name. He never offered one, and she'd never asked. For all she knew, "Jake" wasn't even his real name. Maybe it was short for something. Jacob? Jakeson? Just Jake?

He was average height, average build. Brown hair, forgettable face. He dressed in the sort of plain, dark clothing that didn't catch light and didn't stick in your memory. If you tried to describe him to someone an hour later, you'd come up short.

Rey gave him a short nod.

He returned it without a word and silently melted into the group following Jessica, becoming just another part of the background, like an extra in the scene, unnoticed by design. Rey let out a small breath. Knowing Jake was with her didn't mean Jessica would be perfectly safe, but it meant the odds were better.

And for now, that was enough.

~~~~

It was past two in the morning when Rey's phone buzzed against her nightstand, loud in the quiet of her apartment. She blinked herself awake, disoriented, the glow of the screen stinging her eyes.

Jake.

She answered groggily, voice rough with sleep.

"Yeah, hello?"

"Hi. This is Jake." His voice was as flat and featureless as ever. "The party's starting to spiral a bit out of control. We're at a nightclub now."

Rey pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to pull her thoughts into something usable.

"Is she sober?"

"Yeah."

"What about drugs?"

"The usual stuff seems to be going around," he replied. "But she's clean."

There was a slight hesitation.

"There's something else. I think there's a guy. And there's paparazzi. They're outside."

Rey exhaled slowly, pressing her thumb to her temple. The mental image of Jessica being tipsy, trusting, camera flashes sparking like gunfire caused her chest to tighten.

"Call in the rest of your team," she said. "She deserves to have fun. But we keep her safe."

"And the paparazzi?"

"I'll call CC. See if he can stall or redirect them."

A pause.

"And Jake?"

"Yeah?"

"For the love of God, bring them both back home, okay? I don't want her in someone else's apartment or waking up in a stranger's bed."

"Usual routine?"

"Yeah."

"Got it."

Click.

Rey stared at the screen for a moment after the call ended, her thumb hovering over Jessica's name in her contacts. She didn't hit dial. Not yet.

Instead, she sat up, slid out of bed, and padded to the kitchen. The glow from the fridge washed over her as she reached for a bottle of water, unscrewing the cap. She took a long sip, eyes distant.

Jessica was sweet, flirty chaos, she reminded herself. And chaos had a habit of tipping over.

~~~~

"Wake up, sweetie," Rey said, her voice warm, gentle, with a dangerous edge of patience.

Jessica Tyler purred under the sheets. "You don't usually call me that."

"I didn't mean you, Ms. Tyler," Rey replied smoothly. "I meant the gentleman next to you."

She turned her head slightly, nodded once, and the lights snapped on—dim at first, then gradually filling the room with soft gold.

The man groaned, his eyelids fluttering open. The first thing he saw was his own phone, held up before him as it unlocked using his face.

"Uh, what—?"

"Apologies," Rey said, taking a step back, her movements calm, efficient. "It's a precaution."

She swiped with clean precision, flipping through his photo gallery, videos, and cloud storage like someone checking a grocery list.

"We wouldn't want a picture or a sex tape to end up on the internet, now would we?"

The man sat up, confused and blinking. His sheets were halfway around his waist. He looked like he'd just realized he was in a dream, with Rey as the stern, well-dressed figure standing between him and whatever reality he thought he'd woken up to.

"You were on fire, Ms. Tyler," Rey added without looking up.

She didn't need to see Jessica's expression to know the grin was there.

"Hey, you can't do that—" the man stammered, starting to get to his feet.

"Jake," Rey called, without raising her voice.

Jake materialized beside her, silent as a thought. No door creaked. No floorboard gave. He was just... there.

The man froze.

Rey gestured casually. "This is Jake. Do you remember him?"

The man shook his head, still piecing together the night like a bad puzzle.

"Exactly. Because he's good at his job. He was by Ms. Tyler's side the entire evening. Yours too." She gave the man a quick wink. "Lucky you."

She paused, tilting her head as if pondering a mystery.

"You know, I've never seen him smile." She turned to look at Jake, studying his face. "Nope. Not today either. That makes 171 days in a row. Impressive streak."

Rey looked the stranger up and down. "Wow. Look at you. Handsome, tall, broad shoulders. Probably thinking, 'I could take him'."

But as Rey stepped forward the room suddenly felt smaller.

"You cannot," she said simply. "He'd have you on the floor so fast your life would flash before your eyes in slow-motion. For... reasons, he's no longer serving our country, so now he serves Ms. Tyler."

She handed back the man's phone with a polite smile. "Now, what's going to happen is this: Jake will escort you to the entrance, and a driver will take you wherever you'd like to go in the city."

The man took the phone, still not fully awake, still not sure if any of this was real.

"Uh... okay."

"Good man."

As Jake guided him wordlessly out of the room with shoes in hand and the shirt half-on, Rey crossed to the light dimmer and lowered it a notch.

Then she turned to the woman buried beneath the blankets.

"And you, my queen," she said, sweetly threatening, "need to get dressed."

Jessica groaned, dramatically flopping onto her back as the door clicked shut behind her departing one-night stand.

"Work?"

"Work

out

, uh-huh."

Jessica's voice was muffled by the pillow. "That's even worse. You don't know what it's like getting up this early. Especially after tequila and... cardio."

"I don't, huh?" Rey said, a teasing smile pulling at her lips. "It's nine-thirty. I've been up since seven."

Rey moved to the edge of the bed and knelt, folding her skirt beneath her knees, lowering herself with a practiced kind of grace. The kind that didn't ruffle a single seam.

Jessica peeked at her through one eye.

"You've really got that whole spiel down, huh?"

Rey chuckled. "You've given me ample chances to rehearse. Did you have a good time?"

Jessica's other eye opened, searching her assistant's face. "Are you mad at me?"

"No." Rey shook her head.

"Maybe... jealous?"

Rey arched a brow, playing along. "Oh, I am overcome with jealousy. Positively sick with it."

Jessica grinned lazily. "You're still the one for me, though."

Rey smirked, but she knew that beneath the quips and messy charm, there was something quieter hiding. For a second, she caught it. Then it vanished again, like a ripple in still water.

"I want you to be more mindful when people pull out their phones, okay? Chris gets antsy about this kind of thing."

"CC?"

"CC. Your agent. Yes."

Jessica winced.

"I should've told you we were going to that second place. I just... forgot."

"I wish you wouldn't forget to tell me stuff like that."

Rey hugged herself with one arm. For a moment she looked vulnerable, and Jessica suddenly felt very bad.

"It puts me in a tough spot when I don't know. I have to get extra security in place, prep for damage control... Sometimes even loop in Chris to handle it."

"Why CC?"

"He can put out feelers with the tabloids, call in favors, ease things down if it gets ugly." Rey took Jessica's hand and squeezed it lightly. "Please? For me?"

Jessica's voice was barely a whisper. "I'm sorry. Did I get you into trouble?"

"Nothing I can't get out of. I'm on your side. I know you have needs—"

Jessica sat up slightly. "I do have needs," she murmured, solemnly, as if confessing a sin.

Rey bit her lip to keep from laughing.

"You have all the needs, Ms. Tyler. But I want you to be just a little more aware of your surroundings. That's all."

Jessica nodded, childlike. "Yes, Rachel."

"Rey's fine. We good?"

"We good."

Rey rose to her feet and gently tugged the blanket from Jessica's hips.

She hesitated, cheeks suddenly flushed. Her eyes flicked up, just long enough to meet Jessica's.

And then she leaned in closer. The air between them charged with something unsaid. Rey leaned in, her voice a whisper.

"Now that there's only the two of us..."

Jessica's lips parted, anticipation blooming across her face.

Rey leaned closer still, her hand ghosting over the edge of the blanket—

"...I want you in the gym in fifteen minutes. Or

else

it'll be like last time, and you did not like what happened then."

Jessica's eyes flew open in horror. "You monster."

And just like that, the movie star was off the bed, groaning, padding towards her walk-in closet like a woman sentenced to hard labor.

Rey stood there a moment longer, brushing invisible dust off her blazer, lips curved in a satisfied smile.

By the time Jessica dragged herself into the gym, Rey was already on the treadmill, earbuds in, sweat slicking her skin in a way that looked far too photogenic for someone doing actual cardio.

Jessica squinted at her through half-lidded eyes, and as Rey caught sight of her she pulled out one earbud.

"Ten minutes on the treadmill. Thirty minutes shoulders and core. By the end of this morning, I want you on your knees, panting."

Rey blinked as she realized what she had said and regret showed instantly across her face. Jessica grinned so wide it threatened to split her cheeks.

"Yeah, so last night? When I worked out in the bedroom? That's exactly how I ended—"

"You know what," Rey said sharply, eyes forward again. "Twenty minutes on the treadmill."

Jessica let out a long, pained groan as if she'd been asked to carry a piano up a mountain. Her steps toward the machine were heavy, each one a protest in motion.

She got to work, sort of, and every so often snuck glances toward Rey. She thought she was being subtle.

She wasn't.

Rey's form was ridiculous: clean lines, strong strides, breathing steady and smooth. No strain. No wasted movement. Just... strength. Quiet, practiced strength. Jessica envied it in a way that surprised her. Rey always looked like she belonged, no matter where she stood.

Jessica, by contrast, felt like she was forever performing.

Rey dismounted her treadmill a few minutes later, grabbed her water bottle, and turned to watch Jessica finish her run. That gaze, which was measured and focused, made Jessica stumble over her rhythm.

She suddenly felt very self-conscious in a way she rarely did. She could charm millions on a red carpet, own a room without trying. But Rachel Williams standing across from her, silently judging her footwork?

That

was pressure.

Rey offered her water without a word when she was done, and Jessica took it gratefully, collapsing onto the bench for a blessed five-minute rest.

"You took it easy," Rey said, frowning.

Jessica whipped her head around, offended. "I did not!"

"I'm telling your trainer."

Jessica looked down, sulking. "I'll do better."

"Uh-huh. We'll see." Rey wasn't buying it. "All right, shoulders first, then core."

She listed off the routine with crisp efficiency. "... and then we end with crunches, dead bugs, leg raises... and we finish with a plank. Honestly? He's letting you off easy. I really should have a word."

Jessica gave her a glare so intense it could've melted steel. Rey just smiled sweetly and handed her a mat.

By the end of it, Jessica was slick with sweat, gasping through each rep, strands of damp hair sticking to her temples. Rey, annoyingly enough, looked like she'd just finished a yoga retreat.

"60 seconds," Rey said calmly as Jessica dropped into plank position. "You got this."

Jessica clenched her jaw, eyes shut tight, trying to pretend the burning in her core was a religious experience. She wasn't going to drop. Not in front of

her

.

Ten seconds left.

Suddenly, she felt a hand press lightly against her stomach. Firm fingers splayed just below her ribs.

"Your form's perfect," Rey murmured. "Keep it tight."

Jessica's body screamed, but her mind was very much elsewhere.

When the timer beeped, she collapsed onto her knees, breath ragged, arms trembling. Rey crouched beside her, leaned in close.

"This," she whispered, her voice like silk, "is what I like to see. You, sweaty, on your knees, panting."

Jessica looked up, mouth slightly open, stunned.

Rey burst into laughter and gave her a wink. "You've earned yourself a waffle," she said, standing.