Roxy’s POV

“Roxy, stop making that face. You’re embarrassing me.”

My mother tightened her grip around my arm and continued pulling me through the crowded ballroom before I could protest again.

“I’m not making it difficult,” I muttered. “I’m just trying to tell you that I’m not interested.”

“And I told you that you don’t know whether you’re interested because you haven’t even spoken to him.”

“Exactly. Which is why I don’t understand why you’re dragging me over there.”

She ignored me, smoothing down the side of my dress as though that would somehow make me more willing to participate in whatever matchmaking scheme she had cooked up.

“He’s from...