There were the times I would be in school in L.A., and I would see a black car pull up, then someone would come to the classroom to get me, and it was to go to see him. They’d put me on a plane and fly to wherever he was. It was usually on a whim—he would tell someone, “Go get her,” and then I would get brought to wherever he was. I waited for that car to show up—it was always a black one, usually a Mercedes or a limousine. I felt like my life was the best life ever whenever that car came around.
