Page 72 of The Love Haters

And I don’t know what I was expecting him to say or what I assumed his objection was, but I guarantee it never occurred to me that his complaint—or anyone’s—might be that I lookedtoo good.

Looking too good was not generally a problem for me.

But that’s when Hutch finished with, “Sexy.”

“What?” I asked.

“That swimsuit,” Hutch said, likeStay focused. “It’s way too sexy.”

Never in my life had I been scolded for being too sexy.

I looked up—in awe—to check his face. Was this really his complaint?

Sure enough—there were those frown-wrinkles above his nose. And those dark, worried eyes. And a dead-serious expression.

If he was teasing me, he was the worst teaser in the world.

“Youtoldme to wear this!” I said. “You made me go change!”

“You said it was a one-piece.”

“Itisa one-piece.”

“A one-piece that got caught in a lawn mower, maybe.”

“Look—”

“Put on a different one.”

“I don’t have a different one.”

“This is all you brought?”

“I wanted to wearjeans, remember?”

But Hutch was in action mode now. He apparently decided to solve all our problems at once by yanking my towel away with a magician-like flourish, and then sweeping me up into his arms, charging toward the pool, and tossing me into the water.

Okay. Did not see that coming.

Hutch jumped in after me, and then he and Carlos each grabbed one end of the simulator’s aluminum frame to lower it, seat and all, into the water. Then Hutch called me over.

I looked at the frame and hesitated long enough that Hutch sloshed over to me, took my hand, and pulled me toward the contraption. And I let him. If I wanted to keep my job, I had to make this video. And if I wanted to make this video, I had to go up in a helicopter. And if I wanted to go up in a helicopter, I had to pass this SWET test.

So there really were no decisions left to make.

Which was helpful, in a way.

Hutch’s sudden irritability was also strangely helpful. It gave me something else to think about.

Hutch let go of my hand and I touched the aluminum of the frame, almost like I was checking to make sure it was real. Then Hutch motioned for me to swim under and come up in the middle. I did, and thenclimbed into the seat, which was half-submerged in the water. Then I buckled myself in. Hutch was holding the front of the frame, so I was face-to-face with him, and Carlos was holding the back.

“Here’s how it works,” Hutch said. “You have to do this successfully three times to pass.”

I nodded.

“You can push against the frame to get yourself out,” Hutch went on, “so it’s less about actually swimming than it is about getting your bearings once you’re upside down. You’ve been upside down before?”

I gave him a slightly insulted look.

---