Every so often a room in a building takes on a quiet life of its own. Guests return to it. They send friends to it. They write us months later to ask whether it is free the same week next year. Our jacuzzi suite is that room.
The Bath, Honestly
The jacuzzi sits at the heart of the suite. Deep enough to actually sit in. Quiet enough that you can hear the city outside if you want to, and not at all if you don't. After a long day on your feet in New York, it is the kind of small luxury that ends a day better than a restaurant ever could.
Everything Else
A pillow-top bed dressed in heavy linens, a wet bar with a cooktop and espresso machine, original townhouse millwork, soft lamps instead of overhead glare, and tall windows that let the morning in slowly. The suite was designed for travelers who want a stay that feels like a small New York apartment, not a hotel room.
Who Books It
Anniversaries. Long weekends. The night after a Broadway show. Travelers from overseas who want a single suite for the full week. A surprising number of New Yorkers, too, who want a townhouse stay on their own block without leaving the city.
A jacuzzi suite in a New York townhouse is not a hotel room. It is a small evening at home.
