Elizabeth is just tickled over the obsequiousness of New York w/r/t her baby boy, and he points out that for e.g. Turnbull & Asser, it's prompted by his teen love of the place: "Prince William and I practically put the manager's daughter through college." (Internet jackholes who can't wait to make incredible and pointless statements meant to show their knowledge of All Things New York and Luxury... Go!) Blair brings up the dinner, shoving Chuck into position to invite Elizabeth to come to the event -- a gallery dedication -- and meet Lily into the bargain. Both of which, he acknowledges, might be dealbreakers. It's so sweet and scary how halting and fluttery he's now getting about watching the moms click into place. Elizabeth makes his day/scares him to death when she squeals that she's delighted to come. Well, "squeals" in the same non-applicable way as you could ever imagine weirdo Elizabeth playing squash.
The terror in his eyes nearly finds voice before a junket of paparazzi appear from nowhere, hounding Chuck about the harassment suit. He gets Elizabeth out of there, but guess who calls at just that moment? The leaker of the scandal, Evil Uncle Jack, now complete with paste-on Evil Goatee!
Lily tries reason with Rufus, as though she's never met him: "She's a teenage girl. Cutting school to be with her boyfriend isn't exactly criminal behavior?" Rufus hears nothing, with his fingers in his ears and his "still my little girl in there" mantra. She's sweet, and things quiet down enough for him to process how grateful he is for her presence and support. Thank God for Jenny freaking the fuck out all the time, or these two would never work things out. They agree to chat about blank-slating their immense amount of bullshit at a later time, but first could Rufus come to the gallery thing for Bart? Being her husband, and all. And I guess Chuck's stepfather, too. (WEIRD!)
But Rufus goes all cold again, and says that while they're working toward reconciliation -- which is bullshit, he's not "working" at all, while she's just working his visible and easy-to-reach buttons and levers, like you have to do with his ass -- he's not in the mood to "celebrate any of [her] former husbands right now." (Good line. Best line of the night, actually. Well done, Boy Version of Lisa Loeb, and a first time I think ever that B didn't get that honor.) And anyway, he has to go irritate the shit out Serena for the fiftieth time, so could Lily please fuck off until he's willing once again to be petted and cosseted and fed ice cream in tiny spoonfuls. Lily rolls her eyes and leaves his Scarf of Toddler Limit-Testing on the kitchen island so he'll know he's lost the absolute moral high ground. HA! Lily, you're so generous to think he could ever realize that. It's his birthright as a Humphrey!