Lindi's request reached Nina before I found a polite version of anger. She stood beside Thea holding her own recorder, press badge, plus a notebook containing two completed interviews; nothing about her appearance suggested responsibility for my vendor folder.
"Nina is not my assistant," I said, keeping the correction inside the room instead of laughing it away, "she is Nina Shoka, the journalist covering two artists tonight."
Lindi looked toward Nina's press badge, then closed her eyes briefly when the mistake became obvious. She apologized to Nina without explaining that couples often helped one another. The folder remained where I had left it, making the assumption unnecessary as well as insulting.
"I will retrieve my work after we finish," I said, returning attention toward the calendar rather than expecting Nina to perform forgiveness.
