FAMILY TRUST

Driven yuppie versus Park Avenue preppy.

Named as guardians of four-year-old Emily, a tutu-wearing tot sweet enough to cause cavities, Becca Reinhart and Edward Kirkland square off when Emily’s unmarried parents die in a plane crash. The judge informs them that a final custody ruling will be made in three months—and may the best one win. The winsome orphan needs a mommy now, decides quick-thinking Becca, who stops jetting off to international destinations to make more millions in investment banking and plays boardgames instead with Emily. Edward, more reserved, as befits his WASP heritage, takes a little longer to establish his claim. His wannabe fiancée, a selfish bitch named Bunny Stirrup, keeps him by her side at an endless round of arty parties and charity galas, knowing that precious little Emily is likely to get in the way of her nefarious scheme to marry him (she even seeks help from his domineering mother). Other cutesy names abound: Tina Volley, a socialite, Mitch Beluga, a caterer, and Penelope Hobnob, ditzy headmistress of a French-immersion school for kindergarteners. Expensive brand names and tired clichés about the rich also abound, lest readers forget that these cardboard characters are rich and privileged. But warmhearted Becca somehow keeps it real, despite her posh apartment, spectacular view of Central Park, unimaginable success on Wall Street, and attentive minions. How does she do it? Well, for one thing, she calls her warmhearted Jewish mother every day. And she thinks nothing of dragging finicky Edward into Katz’s Deli for a nosh (and some good-natured ribbing from an abrasive waiter). He takes it all in stride, part of his patrician charm, and she has to admit that he’s attractive and relatively intelligent—for a goy. And Becca needs to marry someone if she’s to win Emily . . . and, hey, so does he. Still, the wicked Bunny lies in wait.

Contrived romp from the author of Legally Blonde, the basis for the Golden Globe–nominated movie.