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ttp://www.portlandtribune.com/archview.cgi?id=22909
The following excerpt is from the forthcoming book "Kobe Bryant: The
Game of His Life."
l l l
A few weeks after the prosecutors left, an investigative reporter
from a national news network showed up at Kelley's front door, hoping
to convince her to come forward and reveal what had happened to her.
"If I was going to talk to anyone, a reporter is the last person
I'd talk to," Kelley told the journalist.
"Then don't talk to me," the reporter said. "Just tell the truth
about what happened. I'll respect that."
"I'm not talking to anyone until I have to," she replied. "If I get
subpoenaed then I'll testify. Other than that, I'm not saying a word."
"A young woman may have been raped," the reporter said. "A man's
life is at stake. This isn't a game. I know that must mean something
to you."
"It does," she said. "But what happened between Kobe and I is
between he and I -- period. It's not anyone else's business."
"It is now," the reporter responded. "They just want the truth.
Can't you just talk to them so they understand a little more about
what happened?"
Kelley hesitated and then looked into the reporter's eyes as if to
convey that she wanted him to take her seriously.
"I understand what you're saying," she said. "I understand why you
came here, but you need to understand something. What happened between
he and I is between he and I. It isn't anyone else's business. That's
it. It's between us."
The reporter nodded, and, as a final gesture that the conversation
was over, Kelley extended her hand.
"Just consider talking to them," said the journalist as he crossed
the street back to his car.
l l l
But Kelley wouldn't talk -- at least not with the prosecution.
Instead, she had her attorney talk to someone else altogether --
someone named Pamela Mackey.
Terrified that prosecutors would subpoena her, Kelley's attorney
told Mackey, Bryant's lead defense attorney, that she wanted nothing
to do with the case and offered her private assurances that she had no
intention of saying anything to anyone about Mackey's client. After
all, she had known Kobe for a long time. Everyone makes mistakes.
It was an unexpected move on her part, but then she felt that the
prosecution had no choice but to leave her alone. They wouldn't
subpoena her to testify if they didn't know what she would say. Now
she could be left alone. Now everything would be all right.
But everything was not all right. As she closed her eyes, she could
clearly picture the lighting in the hallway that night, the scene
frozen in time and space. Kobe had called downstairs because he was
hungry and she had brought him something to eat. It wasn't all that
unusual when he called back a little later and asked her to come
upstairs again. After all, he wasn't exactly a stranger. Throughout
the years Kelley had worked there, the two had become friendly. She
looked forward to seeing him and they often had pleasant
conversations.
Once she was upstairs it didn't take long for them to regain their
familiarity with one -another. He seemed particularly chatty that
night, almost lonely. Come to think of it, she was flattered he'd
asked her inside his room just to talk. In a strange way, if even for
a few moments, she had felt special. After all, he had needed someone
and had turned to her.
He asked her over to the sofa across the room. She managed to hold
back a smile. It was amusing to her that he was this bored. After all,
there were so many of his teammates in rooms nearby if he wanted
company. Then again, he always seemed to be alone. The other players
often had women in their rooms and seemed to be celebrating a victory
or even a loss. All the while, he'd just stay in his room, isolated
from the rest. That's what was so unusual about him, she thought. He
was different from the other players who stayed at the hotel. Some of
them would find women to spend the night with, even professionals at
times. Kobe though, was unquestionably loyal to his wife, all the
while exuding a sense of maturity and respect for others.
There wasn't a hint of recklessness in him.
Almost imperceptibly, he moved closer and his arm reached behind
her. In the distance she could see the silver CD player sitting neatly
on a table with two plastic jewel cases resting against it, the
trademark of the hotel's most prestigious rooms. Then suddenly he
leaned over and their lips met. It happened so quickly and caught her
completely off guard, so she pulled back.
He looked at her, disappointed, and she felt bad. It was flattering
at first, however. Here was someone who could have virtually anyone he
wanted, but for some reason, he wanted her. She was tempted, but she
was already involved. Her current relationship was important to her
and flattered or not, she simply couldn't let this happen. As she
explained this to him, she hoped he would understand. He had to
understand.
After explaining, he sat silently looking into her hazel green
eyes. Then he leaned forward and kissed her again. This time, the kiss
was more forceful, more powerful.
She pulled back and looked at him in awe. Then, he moved forward
and began to kiss her again. He seemed even more assertive, more
determined.
She could feel his hand running through her sandy blonde hair. She
hurriedly pulled away and ran toward the door. He stood up, but then
stopped as she looked back at him. His hands went up as if he were
apologizing.
"It's cool," he said, flashing a smile. Exhaling a deep breath, she
forced a smile herself and nodded as she turned the doorknob to the
room and went out into the hallway. As the golden, brass doors to the
elevator opened, a million thoughts were racing through her head. Her
hand was trembling and her heart was racing.
As she arrived downstairs, a co-worker came up to her.
"What happened to you?" she asked.
"What do you mean?" Kelley responded.
"Take a look at yourself," the woman said, looking her up and down.
In a nearby mirror she noticed her hair was disheveled as if she
just awoke from a deep sleep. Her makeup was askew -- her lipstick
smeared on the corners of her mouth.
"Something really strange just happened," she said. The co-worker
shook her head and began to ask more questions. As she looked down at
the floor, Kelley shook her head slowly.
"I don't know what happened," she said. "I don't know ... he came
on to me. He kissed me. I can't explain it."
The co-worker, who suspected that something more than just kissing
had occurred, told another employee about the incident. After a
supervisor was informed, the young woman was advised not to interact
with him in the future. It was better for everyone, they decided. No
one knew exactly what had happened on the 13th floor that night and no
one wanted to find out. It was
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he age is right for someone who I woulda gone to school with..but since
thats not her name, I'll never know.
s_knight8 <s_knight8@hotmail.com> scribbled:
http://www.portlandtribune.com/archview.cgi?id=22909
The following excerpt is from the forthcoming book "Kobe Bryant: The
Game of His Life."
l l l
A few weeks after the prosecutors left, an investigative reporter
from a national news network showed up at Kelley's front door, hoping
to convince her to come forward and reveal what had happened to her.
"If I was going to talk to anyone, a reporter is the last person
I'd talk to," Kelley told the journalist.
"Then don't talk to me," the reporter said. "Just tell the truth
about what happened. I'll respect that."
"I'm not talking to anyone until I have to," she replied. "If I get
subpoenaed then I'll testify. Other than that, I'm not saying a word."
"A young woman may have been raped," the reporter said. "A man's
life is at stake. This isn't a game. I know that must mean something
to you."
"It does," she said. "But what happened between Kobe and I is
between he and I -- period. It's not anyone else's business."
"It is now," the reporter responded. "They just want the truth.
Can't you just talk to them so they understand a little more about
what happened?"
Kelley hesitated and then looked into the reporter's eyes as if to
convey that she wanted him to take her seriously.
"I understand what you're saying," she said. "I understand why you
came here, but you need to understand something. What happened between
he and I is between he and I. It isn't anyone else's business. That's
it. It's between us."
The reporter nodded, and, as a final gesture that the conversation
was over, Kelley extended her hand.
"Just consider talking to them," said the journalist as he crossed
the street back to his car.
l l l
But Kelley wouldn't talk -- at least not with the prosecution.
Instead, she had her attorney talk to someone else altogether --
someone named Pamela Mackey.
Terrified that prosecutors would subpoena her, Kelley's attorney
told Mackey, Bryant's lead defense attorney, that she wanted nothing
to do with the case and offered her private assurances that she had no
intention of saying anything to anyone about Mackey's client. After
all, she had known Kobe for a long time. Everyone makes mistakes.
It was an unexpected move on her part, but then she felt that the
prosecution had no choice but to leave her alone. They wouldn't
subpoena her to testify if they didn't know what she would say. Now
she could be left alone. Now everything would be all right.
But everything was not all right. As she closed her eyes, she could
clearly picture the lighting in the hallway that night, the scene
frozen in time and space. Kobe had called downstairs because he was
hungry and she had brought him something to eat. It wasn't all that
unusual when he called back a little later and asked her to come
upstairs again. After all, he wasn't exactly a stranger. Throughout
the years Kelley had worked there, the two had become friendly. She
looked forward to seeing him and they often had pleasant
conversations.
Once she was upstairs it didn't take long for them to regain their
familiarity with one -another. He seemed particularly chatty that
night, almost lonely. Come to think of it, she was flattered he'd
asked her inside his room just to talk. In a strange way, if even for
a few moments, she had felt special. After all, he had needed someone
and had turned to her.
He asked her over to the sofa across the room. She managed to hold
back a smile. It was amusing to her that he was this bored. After all,
there were so many of his teammates in rooms nearby if he wanted
company. Then again, he always seemed to be alone. The other players
often had women in their rooms and seemed to be celebrating a victory
or even a loss. All the while, he'd just stay in his room, isolated
from the rest. That's what was so unusual about him, she thought. He
was different from the other players who stayed at the hotel. Some of
them would find women to spend the night with, even professionals at
times. Kobe though, was unquestionably loyal to his wife, all the
while exuding a sense of maturity and respect for others.
There wasn't a hint of recklessness in him.
Almost imperceptibly, he moved closer and his arm reached behind
her. In the distance she could see the silver CD player sitting neatly
on a table with two plastic jewel cases resting against it, the
trademark of the hotel's most prestigious rooms. Then suddenly he
leaned over and their lips met. It happened so quickly and caught her
completely off guard, so she pulled back.
He looked at her, disappointed, and she felt bad. It was flattering
at first, however. Here was someone who could have virtually anyone he
wanted, but for some reason, he wanted her. She was tempted, but she
was already involved. Her current relationship was important to her
and flattered or not, she simply couldn't let this happen. As she
explained this to him, she hoped he would understand. He had to
understand.
After explaining, he sat silently looking into her hazel green
eyes. Then he leaned forward and kissed her again. This time, the kiss
was more forceful, more powerful.
She pulled back and looked at him in awe. Then, he moved forward
and began to kiss her again. He seemed even more assertive, more
determined.
She could feel his hand running through her sandy blonde hair. She
hurriedly pulled away and ran toward the door. He stood up, but then
stopped as she looked back at him. His hands went up as if he were
apologizing.
"It's cool," he said, flashing a smile. Exhaling a deep breath, she
forced a smile herself and nodded as she turned the doorknob to the
room and went out into the hallway. As the golden, brass doors to the
elevator opened, a million thoughts were racing through her head. Her
hand was trembling and her heart was racing.
As she arrived downstairs, a co-worker came up to her.
"What happened to you?" she asked.
"What do you mean?" Kelley responded.
"Take a look at yourself," the woman said, looking her up and down.
In a nearby mirror she noticed her hair was disheveled as if she
just awoke from a deep sleep. Her makeup was askew -- her lipstick
smeared on the corners of her mouth.
"Something really strange just happened," she said. The co-worker
shook her head and began to ask more questions. As she looked down at
the floor, Kelley shook her head slowly.
"I don't know what happened," she said. "I don't know ... he came
on to me. He kissed me. I can't explain
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s_knight8 wrote:
http://www.portlandtribune.com/archview.cgi?id=22909
The following excerpt is from the forthcoming book "Kobe Bryant: The
Game of His Life."
l l l
This is not a book review forum.
The facts of the case have not even been heard in the court trial and here
you are advertising some jackass's book which isn't even in print.
Quite frankly, I don't give a damn what happened between Bryant and two
zillion other women on any given date in any given city. There is only woman
involved in the trial at hand.
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"Richard" <anonymous@127.000> wrote
This is not a book review forum.
The facts of the case have not even been heard in the court trial and here
you are advertising some jackass's book which isn't even in print.
You must not know Shapiro's history.
He was an investigative reporter who turned on the tabloids, exposing the
behind-the-scenes stuff in the Jon Benet Ramsey case. He turned on his
former associates, reporting infractions to the authorities and so on.
The chances are that his local access to law enforcement, the legal
community and the geography will generate a lot to talk about.
Chas
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x-no-archive: yes
http://www.portlandtribune.com/archview.cgi?id=22909
The following excerpt is from the forthcoming book "Kobe Bryant: The
Game of His Life."
I know something about this but I'm not tellin'. ;-)
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On Tue, 3 Feb 2004 12:35:53 -0600, "Richard" <anonymous@127.000>
wrote:
s_knight8 wrote:
This is not a book review forum.
The facts of the case have not even been heard in the court trial and
here
you are advertising some jackass's book which isn't even in print.
Quite frankly, I don't give a damn what happened between Bryant and
two
zillion other women on any given date in any given city. There is
only woman
involved in the trial at hand.
Shame you can't stop the poster from posting it though huh?
--
Like a game of pick up stick played by @$#*ing lunatics
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and only one man.
yet the defense wants to impose the "shes a lying slut" defense. a tad
hypocrital, eh?
lee
s_knight8 wrote:
This is not a book review forum.
The facts of the case have not even been heard in the court trial and here
you are advertising some jackass's book which isn't even in print.
Quite frankly, I don't give a damn what happened between Bryant and two
zillion other women on any given date in any given city. There is only
woman
involved in the trial at hand.
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"Lee Watkins" <spamisforsandwiches-lwatkins@falcon.tamucc.edu> wrote in
message news:bvp2li$6on$1@news.tamu.edu...
and only one man.
yet the defense wants to impose the "shes a lying slut" defense. a tad
hypocrital, eh?
No more hypocritical than "he's a lying rapist".
lee
woman
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s_knight8@hotmail.com (s_knight8) wrote in message news:<6bd12cd6.0402030838.3b90e90b@posting.google.com>...
http://www.portlandtribune.com/archview.cgi?id=22909
<snip>
It was better for everyone, they decided. No
one knew exactly what had happened on the 13th floor that night and no
one wanted to find out.
<snip>
I have stayed in many, many 3 and 4 star hotels all over the U.S., and
as best I can recall they *never* have a 13th floor with guest rooms
on it. They either just skip the numbering from 12 right to 14 (in
most cases), or in a couple I have seen a 13th floor but it had no
guest rooms (laundry, storage, or whatever, but no guest rooms).
I haven't specifically looked for a 13th floor in every hotel I've
stayed at, but I notice it in the elevator all the time.
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x-no-archive: yes
s_knight8@hotmail.com (s_knight8) wrote in message
news:<6bd12cd6.0402030838.3b90e90b@posting.google.com>...
http://www.portlandtribune.com/archview.cgi?id=22909
<snip>
<snip>
I have stayed in many, many 3 and 4 star hotels all over the U.S., and
as best I can recall they *never* have a 13th floor with guest rooms
on it. They either just skip the numbering from 12 right to 14 (in
most cases), or in a couple I have seen a 13th floor but it had no
guest rooms (laundry, storage, or whatever, but no guest rooms).
I haven't specifically looked for a 13th floor in every hotel I've
stayed at, but I notice it in the elevator all the time.
They usually don't, but some do.
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On Tue, 3 Feb 2004 11:52:56 -0800, "KLM" <nonospammer@com.com> blurted:
x-no-archive: yes
I know something about this but I'm not tellin'. ;-)
What then is the point of your post?
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x-no-archive: yes
"Ruben Patterson and Chris Mihm Both Posterized Snaq" <HowCanTh@t.Be??>
On Tue, 3 Feb 2004 11:52:56 -0800, "KLM" <nonospammer@com.com> blurted:
What then is the point of your post?
To drive you insane, of course. NOT. Just for you to know something is
coming, but I can't say.
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