Rich people are different. And homophobic.
This delightful trainwreck is the sort of book you burn through on the beach in a few hours, loathing almost all the characters, but too caught up in the drama to look away. A destination wedding, a pack of wealthy snobs with substance abuse problems, two brides (one edgy, one anxious), and a storm on the way. What could possibly go wrong?
Ever since Gatsby, authors have been taking potshots at the foibles of the monied class, usually making the same point: all the wealth in the world can't make you happy, or keep you from being a jackass. What's different about Parker's story is that it throws the upper classes' sotto voce homophobia into sharp relief. Tiny and Caroline are getting married in Bermuda because the country club their parents belong to wouldn't host their reception....but we don't talk about that. Bitsy, Tiny's mom, still can't cope with the fact that her daughter is queer, and Dick, her dad, still isn't comfortable with it either....but we don't talk about that. Robbie, Tiny's brother, refuses to attend the wedding because he thinks being gay is a sin....but we don't talk about that. Especially in front of Tiny.
You get the picture. The oncoming storm is a great, if unsubtle, metaphor for how all those rigidly repressed feelings will eventually boil over. Throw Connie, Caroline's ex-girlfriend, into the mix, and things get worse. Caroline isn't EXACTLY marrying Tiny for her money, but she's not NOT marrying Tiny for her money either. Too bad Tiny doesn't know that because she's actually invited Connie to the wedding...and Connie's not subtle about wanting Caroline back.
Other characters have their own shameful secrets and burdens to carry; in fact, the drama is piled on so thick that it veers into "oh come on now" territory. However, Parker redeems herself by sticking the landing on the main plot resolution, which avoids cliche but still allows Tiny to emerge triumphant. Everybody gets what's coming to them, some folks get second chances, and readers get a satisfying summer read that really should be called Raid, because it kills WASPS dead (in the roasting type way, of course, not literal murder).
Recommended for medium-to-large fiction collections. This would also make a good "buy at the airport bookstore and read on the plane" type novel for your next destination vacation, where it will hopefully not storm.