The bell over the glass door of the truck dealership jingled, and conversation on the showroom floor dipped for just a beat.

In walked a man with short dark hair, Ray-Ban glasses with shiny black frames perched confidently on his nose, and a peach strapless quinceanera dress that flowed around him like a soft sunset. The gown was elegant-intricate embroidery stitched across the bodice, the skirt full and voluminous, supported by petticoats and wide hoops that swayed as he moved. A small matching purse dangled from his wrist, catching the light when he shifted his weight in a pair of high heels that clicked decisively against the tile.

He walked like he owned the place.

A salesman straightened his tie and put on his best professional smile. “Good afternoon, sir. Welcome in. What can I help you with today?”

The man planted one heel, adjusted the skirt with practiced ease, and spoke in a voice that sounded like it had logged a million highway miles.

“Need a truck,” he said flatly. “A big one.”

The salesman blinked once, then nodded. “Sure thing. We’ve got several models-half-ton, three-quarter-ton-”