Unmet deadlines and a couple of missing pages frayed away at his nerves.
Brown spills appeared from an accidentally knocked over cup of joe when the phone rang.
The call was from Ted McAllister who was a free-lancing photographer and another self-ascribed writer for The Chatty Patty,
a online vent for Joe's and Jolene's column.
They were encroaching upon a competitor's territory again.
Mum was still the word for details about a scoop being circulated among all the team players.
Ted was a close friend and he previously provided some fantastic aerial shots of NYC in a brilliantly illuminated setting against a blackened skyline.
Ted had connections with a entrepreneurial helicopter service called "Fly By Nite" which shunned daylight hours.
Peak performance for cash meant indulging honeymoon whims and wealthy college kids seeking a thrill.
Ted daydreamed at night, rekindling thoughs of an old flame,
the sun while doing his nine to five job.

Sunrise will happen in thirty minutes and Joe's workout could be managed before the next encounter with a hot shower and shave.
He tried limbering up for awhile while leaning against the only tree in Brooklyn.
Yanking at the cord, yipping and yapping came to a head of a Chihuahua with a good neighborly woman called Mrs. Peach.
They were walking down a runway of red carpet opposite on the street
where manholes lay open with men-at-work eating lunch.
Mrs. Peach had harlequin horns on, glassy eyes bleary
when they came off meeting Joe's for the first time.
Now any joe schmoe could have picked them up,
hoping to pick her up with smooth lines.
But as luck would have it, Joe helped the damsel in distress
even though her pooch, a puffball with polished nails at both ends growled protest.
A couple of long stemmed lavender glads and roses pricked the red carpet,
snagging the ticking of her dress, drawing up her hem until she smoothed it down again.
She was new to the bldg. and was busy fixing up decor in her flat
with the hallway being a long stretch of yellow walls ending
with a Chinese mural of fanning ginko over tea lanterns.
Today she would be walking up those flight of steps
instead of taking the fenced in elevator.
Joe's beeper buzzed, it was Ted again.
His timing was impeccable since Joe was speechless,
a bit out of breath from those stairs,
but now he froze in the sun with Mrs. Peach beside him.

End of Part III.