Luxe

The house

Luxe is the one people book from the doorway. Soaring ceilings with wood beams running across them, an oversized ring chandelier hung in the middle, and a floor-to-ceiling marble fireplace with a linear fireplace cut into it. It's the most dramatic house we've built.

It sleeps ten across three bedrooms — a king in the primary, and two oversized rooms with two queens each. One of those is playful and colorful, the kind of room people claim on arrival. The other is an homage to Florida living: sage walls and beautiful bird artwork.

Then there's everything you find as you go. Frankie and Eloise oversee the living room — he's a bronze stag in spectacles and a pipe, thoroughly distinguished; she's his lady friend, in her own glasses and a scarf. Neither of them is judging you, apparently. A three-dimensional mouse greets you in the hall bath, and little ghosts hide in artwork scattered all through the house. Nobody warns you about any of it, and finding them is half the fun of staying here.

It shares the lot with the Cottage, which sits off to the left with its own porch facing away from the main house. In practice you'd never know — separate front door, separate parking, and enough distance that neither house feels like it's borrowing anything from the other. Book both and you have fourteen.