Miss Hattie. Miss Butterfly. Your Room Is Ready!
Luxurious Memory I really don’t remember the first time I heard about the Georgian Terrace hotel...it feels like I’ve always known it, the way you know a place before you’ve ever been there. Like a story your family members told you so many times it becomes your own memory. And then I walked through the doors. The lobby opened around me like a held breath. Chandeliers caught the afternoon light and scattered it across marble floors, and I immediately felt at home. The air smelled like old wood, fresh flowers, some Burberry Her perfume, and something unnameable that I couldn't quite describe. I stood still for a long moment while my husband parked the car in the garage. I knew this would be the first of many stays. The hotel didn’t feel new to me. It felt familiar, in a way I couldn’t explain. Like I had been coming here for a hundred years. Like I belonged here, among the tall windows and the sweeping staircases and the ghosts of glamour that linger in every corner. And that...