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particular species could reach fifteen hundred pounds and live a hundred years or more. Jana thanked her lucky stars that at three feet or so, these fish weren’t much more than hatchlings— female hatchlings. Still, she didn’t like the way they clustered at the edge of their tank, blowing rubber-lipped kisses at her. She whispered in Steve’s ear. “I’m afraid if I refuse their advances, they’ll settle for eating me alive.”
    “Sort of like Brace Bowie,” he murmured back.
    Jana swore under her breath. No, exactly like Brace Bowie, developer, businessman and ex-fiancé number three. The breakup was complicated by the fact Brace had sunk a lot of money into cousin Viktor’s caviar bar. She had a feeling he wanted to pull out of the investment, but felt awkward leaving Alex and Viktor hanging. Coincidentally, a week later, Brace was called in for questioning regarding the bust-up of a black market sturgeon fishing ring. A suspect arraigned on poaching charges had pointed a finger at him. He’d come out clean, but the negative publicity had hurt his business.
    Jana’d had nothing to do with the investigation, but neither she nor anyone else could convince Brace, and he’d come back slinging mud at a flashy press conference accusing her of pouring millions of taxpayer dollars into building her own empire, with an army of Department of Fish and Game “enforcer-commandos” to “strong-arm” her policies. He was going make sure she lost her senate seat in the November election. For ten nightmarish weeks until the city made him take them down, he’d displayed huge signs on several of his project sites downtown calling her legislative motives into question with slogans like: Spend-Happy Jasper Wastes YOUR Tax Dollars! Vote Her Out This Fall!
    “Whatever happened to taking it like a man?” she muttered to Steve. “Then again, maybe if he’d been more of a man, I might still be with him.” Add Brace to her long list of bad choices. That man-vacation was sounding better by the minute.
    The owner of the fish farm walked up to the microphone to begin the festivities. “Ladies and Gentlemen, let’s give a warm welcome to Senator Jana Jasper, who will lead us in our ceremonies today.”
    To the sound of polite applause, Jana stepped up to the podium. “It’s opening day at Good Egg Sea Farm and that’s truly a reason to celebrate. Caspian Sea beluga sturgeon hover on the brink of extinction, wiped out by habitat degradation, commercial fishing and a black market run by the Russian Mafia. But with a little freshwater and aquaculture expertise, we’ve turned this small section of our state’s Central Valley into the caviar-farming capital of the world!”
    She waited for the cheers to quiet down before continuing. “Welcome to California’s new gold rush! Black gold. And we’re not talking crude. We’re talking gourmet! ” To more applause, she waved her hand in a sweeping motion at the huge circular tanks around her. “As Chair of your Natural Resources committee, I promise to champion legal enterprises like this one ceaselessly. Together we can stop the drain that illegal activities like poaching take on our wildlife budget—” A flip of a tail from an oversexed teenage sturgeon shot a spray of water that caught her across the jaw.
    She continued, despite her cold-blooded hecklers. Using a tissue that Steve handed her to wipe off the drips. “Aqua-farms like Good Egg discourage poaching, smuggling and illegal importation. This keeps hard-won budget money where it belongs—funding crucial programs that help to protect California’s environment. Congratulations, Good Egg. Not only are you good for California’s taste buds, you are good for California’s future!”
    As the crowd applauded heartily, one of the aqua-farm owners handed her a pair of scissors. To cheers and whistles, Jana cut through a bright purple ribbon draped across the footbridge.
    As the crowd applauded, a reporter and a