The cute story of the beginning of my parents' relationship:
She asked him to dance because she saw that a guy she didn't like was going to ask her. She didn't want to date him either, he was just a dance. He wanted to take her out, and her excuse was "I don't know if my mother will let me go out".
He phoned later, SPOKE TO HER MOTHER in a sickeningly sweet, charming, and polite tone, and asked for her permission to take her daughter out to the theater. Her mother was delighted by how polite and sweet and charming that young man was and my mother lost her excuse. My grandmother very probably had some narcissistic traits, and the idea of having her permission asked for coupled with the idea of her daughter going out with a young man from an obviously well-to-do, cultured family was appealing to her.
My mother allowed herself to lose her voice there and she silenced her intuition. My father was charming and sweet and persistent. And the rest is history.