Scottish she could tell, if the surname didn't give the hint the accent surely did. Emma was pure brit herself, though a few generations back there had been a good amount of Irish in her family. Emma stepped backward until she was at the edge of the front counter and then she pushed herself up to perch there.
Her feet began lazily swinging, lightly hitting against the counter as she watched him.
"I'm sorry for your loss. Your lot put up a good fight, just not good enough I suppose, I don't know.. I didn't go.." as if she could afford tickets on her salary. Emma's lips upturned in sweet smile and she tilted her head slightly.
"So what can I do for you, good sir? Need a gadget fixed? Fixed up and sold? We sell practically anything, your junk is our treasure!"