REVENGE IS BEST SERVED COLD

What do a Gucci pantsuit, a Jil Sander trench coat, Donna Karan loafers, a Michael Kors short trench and black Prada buckleups have in common? All appear in one short paragraph of this superficial, condescending debut, in which nary a page goes by without the appearance of a brand name. The plot features two hip African-American women: Morgan Nelson, a married Fortune 500 exec on her way up the corporate ladder, and her best friend, Dakota Cantrell, an equity trader who yearns to meet the right guy. These two independent women enjoy a stereotypically fabulous buppie lifestyle, but are sweet-talked and eventually betrayed by gay entrepreneur Blake St. James. It's hard to believe that the savvy Morgan would jeopardize her marriage and her job by entertaining a new business venture with the silver-tongued Blake, whom she barely knows. Similarly, why should it come as a surprise to the race-conscious Dakota that her attraction to a white executive in her company might strain relations between the two women as well as in her own family? The authors try to create dramatic tension in the lives of their main characters, but the central plot is crippled by the artless handling of backstory as well as too many clichés and ludicrous sexual euphemisms. Given these flaws, it almost seems beside the point to mention that it takes 44 out of 47 chapters to get to the revenge scenario referred to in the title. Readers who think a novel should be more than a litany of designer clothes, exclusive restaurants, luxury apartments and top-shelf liquors will see this one for what it is: the literary equivalent of champagne in a can. (Oct. 9)