Emma had her nose in her papers for the first moment she'd walked in, so it would be easy to mistake her for someone else. There were, after all, a lot of bottle blondes with cute noses in the universe.

She looked up at Erik when he asked about her refill. "Vodka martini, dirty, extra olives." He was handsome, but she was used to being surrounded by handsome men. Something about his face was vaguely familiar, so she stared at him a moment, trying to place him.