She stares at him for a second and then notices our CEO onscreen, at the vigil for the kids. Eli notes that she's changing the subject, and she asks how Eli turned around on burning the guy. His pride takes over; he's gleeful for a second: "You haven't seen this yet?" CEO gets a pie in the face, and Eli blushes with pleasure while Diane gapes.
Eli: "Wonderful, isn't it? People love humility. Tony Hayward needed a pie in the face."
Diane, shivering: "You didn't..."
Eli: "No! That was just luck. I thought he'd just get booed."
The guy recovers well, honestly -- "I'm proud to be here today, I don't care in what condition" -- and the story spins itself. Eli tries to drive home the moral of the story today: "I'm good at my job, Diane. But I can't have leakers. It's unprofessional." She says he didn't leak it, but who knows what she thinks. When Eli looks that crazy, when he looks like he's about to eat his own face, just lie. He deals in images.
Back in the lobby, Celeste asks if Will's there to give up, but he's back at $10M. "It didn't work for you to blame the painkiller, it didn't work for you to blame the victim, so: Minor modification. That's what your case rests on now." Kalinda got on the case, followed the money just like in politics, and figured it out. Celeste figures something out, too. About authenticity, about the broken wing performance: "She never was jealous, was she? Your lawyer friend. That was all a piece of playacting?"
Kalinda, really off her game for once, drops off the wrong file folder at their table and then backs away again, ducking; shuffling. It's kind of a bummer to be honest. Inside the file folder is Dr. Farland's original patent application for the device -- for which, by the way, he's getting 30 percent a pop -- where, of course, he had to insist on originality. To get the patent.
Will: "'This SCS is a truly original development in severe back-pain management. It is not a mere modification' -- How nice of him to use those words! -- '...Of existing SCSs on the market...'"
After some grumbling and tussling, Celeste agrees to eight, and then changes the subject again: "I need a new home. My firm is going under. Breaking up. Litigation's going one way, acquisitions another." A total of nine in litigation, including Celeste; he says he'll check with Diane and, once again, she says how much she misses him. Maybe she does. Maybe she doesn't know the difference right now, and just needs a home.